For the love of dango
by Phoenyx634
Summary: Uchiha Itachi likes dango. But that's not the only reason he keeps returning to the restaurant... Itachi X OFC, not a ninja heroine, no OP-ness (except for Itachi's canon powers I suppose) Non-massacre AU
1. Chapter 1: Itachi

**Author's note:**

 **This is more of a doodle that I've been working on over the past year, when I needed a break from writing all my other fics. I'm posting it now since I'm pretty much happy with the first few chapters. This is not going to be anywhere near the length of my other fics, I'm estimating probably 10 to 15 chapters before I wrap things up. Although… stories tend to take on a life of their own once I start writing, so… hell, it might turn into an epic saga. It's supposed to be a cute, short (mildly angsty) fluff piece, though.**

" **Itachi falls for someone his clan doesn't approve of" is a pretty popular trope, I know, but I realized that most of the stories I read are about a** _ **ninja**_ **heroine. So, I thought, what if he falls for someone completely normal? In other words, why not have a** _ **civilian**_ **character in the Narutoverse… No secret powers, absolutely no OP-ness.**

 **For obvious reasons, this is a non-massacre, canon-divergent story. Itachi is in his mid-twenties, living in Konoha. Keep reading to find out what else I've tweaked.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Itachi**

* * *

Uchiha Itachi liked dango.

That was the only reason that _Saya_ , of all people, got to know the real man behind the ninja mask. It wasn't a fast process, of course, but these things have to start somewhere.

For Saya, it started one lazy Saturday afternoon while she was clearing tables for her uncle, cheerfully piling plates on one another and sweeping the used dango-sticks into the trash. They had just finished the lunch-time rush, and now the restaurant was quiet and empty. Having worked on-and-off at the restaurant since she was a child, these tasks had a sort of mind-numbing familiarity that allowed her plenty of time to daydream when she wasn't interacting with customers.

The bell at the door jingled cheerfully to let her know she had new guests, and she looked up to see a dusty group of three ninja walk in, clearly fresh off a mission. It wasn't a very common occurrence for them to serve ninja - and the ninja they _did_ get were usually young genin – but Saya could immediately see these ninja were elite. They wore jounin flak jackets, for one thing, and moved with an air of relaxed, predatory grace that all highly skilled ninja seemed to naturally possess.

A lesser woman may have been intimidated, but a single quirk of her eyebrow was the only sign that these customers were somewhat out of the norm. Smoothing out her apron, she fixed a welcoming smile onto her face and bustled over.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen! Welcome to Konoha's Finest Dango Eatery-" she only winced slightly at the presumptuous name, having gotten used to it over time, "Table for three?"

The first ninja, a handsome brown-haired man with lazy eyes that appraised her… somewhat _curvaceous_ form (she _did_ work in a dango restaurant) appreciatively, nodded, and simply said, "Please."

She blinked at him, wide-eyed. "That seems dangerous." She remarked, indicating the sharp senbon he was rolling around in his mouth. Remembering her manners, she indicated an empty table near the air conditioner and stepped back to allow them in.

He smirked at her straightforwardness. "What's your name?"

"Saya."

"Just Saya?"

"Yup."

The three ninja sat around the table she indicated, and she tried not to stare. The second man was kind of sickly-looking, but he had a friendly smile. The third man, however… He had the distinctive look of an Uchiha; long, black hair, swept back in a ponytail, with flawless pale skin and dark eyes framed by long lashes. Those dark eyes seemed to see right through her, even though his blank face gave no indication he found their conversation the least bit interesting. Blushing slightly, she turned back to the first man she'd addressed.

"Well, Saya- _chan_ …" he drawled, "Ninja are supposed to be _dangerous_ , y'know." From the smoky look he was giving her, he obviously meant "dangerous" as in "sexy".

She returned his confident smirk with a matching one of her own, cocking out her hip. "Have you ever given yourself an accidental tongue piercing?" she asked inquisitively, tilting her head in fascination.

He spluttered and his senbon almost fell out of his mouth. "…No!"

The other ninja gave a chuckle which turned into a cough, and then wheezed, "Hah! She got you there, Genma!"

"Shut it, Hayate." Genma growled, "That was _one time_ , give me a break!"

"No worries, your secret's safe with me." She assured him, with just a trace of wickedness. "Now, what can I get you?" she passed them three menus. "Would you like some drinks in the meantime?"

The Uchiha (well, she assumed he was an Uchiha) spoke up for the first time, in a surprisingly gentle voice to contrast his cold demeanor, "Just water for me, thank you." It _was_ a little hot for tea.

Hayate coughed, "Same."

"You don't serve beer, do you?" Genma asked wistfully.

"Not on a Saturday at four o'clock, I'm afraid," Saya admitted cheerfully, "We have a Happy Hour on Fridays, but that's about it."

"Fantastic. I guess I'll have fruit juice." He grumbled. "Why did we come here again?"

Hayate elbowed him, chuckling, "Cuz it's the Captain's birthday," he nodded at the silent man sitting opposite him, "And he wanted to."

Saya turned her eyes to the stoic Uchiha, surprised. "It's your birthday?"

He settled for a dismissive shrug, without raising his eyes from the menu. She wondered if he was simply shy, or just uncomfortable that a stranger knew such an intimate detail of his life. Ninjas were hard to read.

Nevertheless, she beamed and exclaimed, "That's wonderful! Since it's your birthday, your order is on the house!"

At that he looked up, quickly, a hint of concern in his dark gaze, "That's unnecessary-"

"Nonsense." She said firmly, crossing her arms, "It's a special day that comes only once a year. Order whatever you like."

"But-"

She could tell by the frown starting to scrunch up his brow that he was planning on being difficult. Some customers were just like that – although this Uchiha was being stubborn about _free food_ , of all things. That was a first. But it was the restaurant's policy, whether he liked it or not.

She drew herself up, meeting his dark eyes boldly. "It's your birthday, Sir," she informed him, folding her arms resolutely, "So shut up and accept the free dango."

There was a shocked silence as the tension around the table instantly ratcheted up.

For a moment he simply stared at her, his expression quite comical. She wondered how often people dared to talk back to him – not often, judging by the flummoxed expressions on his teammates' faces – and felt smug. She'd never had a problem speaking her mind, especially when customers were being particularly obtuse. It took most people a little while to get used to her sass – those that didn't like it would simply not come back, which was perfectly fine. They had plenty of regulars who enjoyed her waitressing style just fine.

After taking a moment to get over his shock, the dark-haired ninja settled on a cautious nod, looking chastised and a little... amused?

She smiled right back at him, her cheerful persona back in place. "I'll be right back with your drinks." She said sweetly, and floated off to the kitchen.

One look at her Cheshire-cat grin had her adoptive uncle, the chef and owner of the restaurant, groaning, " _Saya_ … Have you been teasing the customers again?"

"Just a little."

He huffed suspiciously, and carried on rolling out dough, his meaty arms dusted liberally with flour. "Well, don't take it too far, alright?"

"I never do." She responded, preparing their three drinks.

"One of these days," he warned her, "That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble."

"Aw, you think I'm smart?" she teased, leaning up to peck him on the cheek. He subsided into embarrassed grumbles, but Saya could tell he was pleased. Having never had children of his own, she'd become as close as a daughter to him over the years.

She picked up the tray and took it out, spotting the ninja trio in deep discussion, which broke off as soon as she approached. She pretended not to notice, and served their drinks without comment. "Have you decided to order?"

They had, and proceeded to order a rather substantial amount of dango. From the looks of it, they had just returned from a mission and were pretty hungry. She _did_ notice that the Captain was only ordering from the cheaper side of the menu. He obviously didn't want to cause the restaurant to lose money. It was oddly touching… and also annoying. Didn't the guy know how to be a _little_ selfish on his own birthday?! She wouldn't have offered if the establishment couldn't afford to treat _one_ customer to a free meal!

Remembering her uncle's warning, though, she simply sighed and bit her tongue. If he wanted to be a martyr over _dango_ , after all, she was hardly in a position to argue about it.

"Hey, Saya-chan," drawled Genma just before she turned to leave with their orders.

She paused and steeled herself, having an inkling as to what was coming next…

"D'you wanna get a drink sometime?"

 _Bingo_ , she thought dryly. It wasn't the first time men (and, on a couple of occasions, women) had mistaken her banter as flirting. She smiled at him. "Sorry." She apologized simply, "That's not going to happen."

By the widening of his eyes, that was not the answer he was used to receiving. She could understand why; he was attractive, confident, chatty… he'd be a fun guy to hang around. Usually, she wouldn't mind going out for a few drinks with a guy like that, but…

"You're seeing someone." he nodded, understanding.

She sighed – but she was an honest person by nature. "I'm not, actually."

He frowned. "Then why not?" he demanded, sounding slightly offended.

"Genma." Warned the Uchiha, with quiet authority.

Saya watched in interest as Genma visibly flinched at the implied rebuke. Perhaps, on the job, the Uchiha was not as gentle as he seemed in the dango restaurant.

"I was just… curious." Genma qualified, looking contritely at Saya. He obviously hadn't meant to be rude.

"That's alright," she replied easily, "It's just…" she sighed. It wasn't the first time she'd had to explain her odd dating criteria, "I don't date ninja." She admitted.

"Ever?" he looked surprised.

She shook her head. "It's a personal decision."

She saw a myriad of questions fly through his head at that, and he opened his mouth with a slight frown, but again the Uchiha spoke up in her defence.

"Genma, drop it." He said quietly, "You have your answer."

With a small bow, she returned to the kitchens quickly, _feeling_ rather than seeing the curious gazes of three ninja fixed between her shoulder-blades.

The rest of the meal passed without drama, and Saya bid them goodbye after they veritably _inhaled_ their dango in under an hour. Despite being rejected, Genma continued their friendly banter, and she was sure that there would be no hard feelings. He was a good guy, and clearly not after anything serious.

Just before the Uchiha exited the restaurant, Saya debated internally with herself for a short while, feeling uncharacteristically shy, and then hardened her resolve and spoke up with what she'd been meaning to ask ever since they'd first walked in.

"Um," she started, blushing slightly.

The tall Captain stopped, and turned his unreadable gaze on her and once again gave the uncomfortable impression he could see right into her head.

"I now know Hayate-san and Genma-san, but you are-?"

A short pause, as if he was reluctant to answer. "…Uchiha Itachi." He said at last, watching her reaction with detached interest.

She knew _exactly_ who he was. The eldest son of the head of the Uchiha clan… and rumoured to be the most fearsome ninja in the whole village. Not much was generally known about him, except that he was an ANBU commander, and occasionally served on the Hokage's personal guard. People talked about more than his official positions, of course. She'd heard that with one look into his eyes, you could die, screaming.

She blinked in confusion. His eyes were so pretty, though.

She couldn't reconcile that reputation with the quiet, polite man in front of her, who worried about being an inconvenience to a dango shop on his birthday. It was a good thing she put more faith in her own ability to form impressions of people, than relying on hearsay.

"Itachi-san," she smiled, purposefully using his given name and not the politer, more proper use of his surname, "I hope you'll come again, and try a wider selection of our menu." She winked knowingly at him.

His eyes widened slightly, realizing she'd picked up on his decision to order cheaply.

"And, once again… Happy Birthday."

"…Thank you." He responded, his dark eyes lingering on her a moment longer, before, for the first time, a faint smile graced his lips. "Perhaps I will."

Just as quickly, he turned and rejoined his teammates who were waiting outside, leaving Saya feeling somewhat dazzled, heart all a-flutter.

 _Perhaps I will._

For some reason, his velvet voice replayed in her mind, like a stuck record.

 _Perhaps I will._

 _Perhaps I-_

"No ninjas!" she muttered to herself sternly, starting to wipe down the tables with a little more force than necessary.

"You _don't_ … date… ninjas!"

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **I've purposefully left any explicit description of Saya out of the story, so that you can imagine your own version of what she looks like. However, if you want to know mine: she's of average height, with a petite frame even though she's definitely not skinny. She's got some curves, y'know what I mean? (she works in a dango shop, after all). She has a heart-shaped face and slightly curly auburn hair tied in a messy bun, with brown eyes. She's not typically beautiful, but her outgoing and cheerful personality is immediately apparent.**


	2. Chapter 2: Sasuke

**Chapter 2: Sasuke**

* * *

It was three weeks before she saw him again.

"Itachi-san!" she greeted cheerfully, and the bell tinkled above the door. "And this is?"

He seemed a lot more relaxed than the last time she'd seen him, and actually smiled back (for a second making her knees go a little weak) before he replied, "This is my brother, Sasuke."

Saya gave a polite dip of her head, "Sasuke-san. I'm Saya. It's nice to meet you."

The young man standing slightly behind his taller brother only replied with a barely civil nod, and gave her a quick, dismissive once-over. "Nii-san," he growled, "I hate dango." He was just as attractive as his brother, in a prouder, more angsty kind of way, but she already knew whose personality she preferred.

"Sasuke. Don't be rude." Itachi sighed, and reminded him, "It was my turn to choose the restaurant."

"You could've at least picked someplace we both like." Sasuke complained.

"You'll survive." Itachi replied drily, and led the way to the same table he'd sat at before. The restaurant wasn't empty this time, but there were only three other occupied tables, meaning she could take her time a bit with the Uchihas.

She stifled a chuckle at the familiarity at which they argued, and felt a brief longing for a sibling of her own. "What can I get you to drink?" she asked, laying out the menus.

"Hm, I think we'll both have tea." Itachi said pleasantly before Sasuke could say anything, prompting a glare from his brother, though he didn't argue with the choice.

"Is there a bathroom around here?" demanded Sasuke coldly.

Saya smiled sweetly and indicated over her shoulder, "Right down the hall, Sasuke-san."

He got up, scraping his chair loudly against the floor, and stomped off in the direction she'd indicated.

Saya watched him go, and then turned back to Itachi. "Your brother is quite a brat." She remarked genially.

A single raised eyebrow was his only response to her bluntness this time – perhaps he was getting used to it. "Unfortunately, yes." He agreed after a moment, and sighed, looking nostalgic, "He used to be _so_ much cuter."

She chuckled. "Really?" she felt slightly transfixed by the fondness in his eyes as he recalled some distant memory of childhood… "Ahem," she coughed, blushing, "Tea, right…" she bustled off hurriedly.

Sasuke was back by the time she brought the tea.

"… don't know why you and Shisui have to make things so difficult." he was complaining, sounding quite petulant for his age. He looked about seventeen. He _sounded_ about five.

"I've been busy, you know that." Itachi's voice was calm, his hands clasped together, relaxed.

Saya laid out the cups on the table.

Sasuke glared. "You're always busy."

Itachi reached out with his right hand slowly, a slight smirk on his face, and Sasuke suddenly jerked backwards, clamping both his hands over his forehead. "Don't." he warned suspiciously. Saya blinked, bemused at the strange exchange, but she guessed it was some sibling-thing they did.

Itachi lowered his hand and picked up his teacup instead, looking faintly smug at the extreme reaction he'd gotten.

It was much easier to read his expressions when he was around his brother.

Unlike her first impression, Saya suddenly realized that he was not shy at all, nor even very introverted. Rather, he had come across as quiet the first time she'd met him, because he wasn't comfortable conversing with strangers… and even with his teammates. Perhaps he approached all casual conversations outside his family with wariness.

"May I take your orders?" she asked cheerfully.

Itachi looked up at her and once again caused minor heart palpitations with the smile he directed at her. "Perhaps you could recommend your favourite." He lazily propped up his chin on his knuckles as he regarded her with warm black eyes, "I trust your judgement."

Saya noticed that Sasuke had stiffened, and seemed to be looking between them in shock, as if his brother had just grown an extra head.

Well, it certainly wasn't an uncommon request for customers to make. "Here," she pointed out the relevant line on the menu, leaning close to his shoulder to point it out. "The pistachio and redbean dango is _particularly_ delicious. It's a personal favourite of mine."

Itachi nodded slowly, and she could see real enthusiasm lighting up in his usually stoic, dark eyes. "I'll try it." He said decisively. "Sasuke?"

His little brother blinked, as if snapping out of a daze, and said carelessly, "Whatever's the least sweet."

Saya raised her eyebrows. "I'll see what I can do." Picking up both of their menus, she returned to the kitchen to deliver the orders.

After that, she did her rounds at the other tables, humming a tune absently as she bantered with the regulars. Since the restaurant wasn't very busy, she couldn't help herself from sneaking glances back at the Uchiha siblings every now and then. From the looks of things, they seemed to be having a serious conversation.

Itachi was just so… _interesting._ She told herself her interest was strictly platonic, and her lingering glances were... academic. Because he was physically attractive, and that was all.

When she finally brought out their dango, Sasuke glanced over at her and then said to his brother, so loudly it seemed oddly deliberate, "So? Are you going to go through with one of the _arranged marriages_ the Elder Council proposed?"

Saya kept her face serene as she put down her tray and laid out the dango in front of them.

Itachi, for the first time, seemed annoyed as he shot a glare of his own at his little brother. Sasuke was obviously not used to being on the receiving end of his bad temper, and immediately shrank back in his chair, looking a mixture of contrite and defiant.

Saya hummed absently, as if she hadn't picked up on the sudden, awkward atmosphere, "My condolences," she said sincerely to Itachi, whose eyes instantly fixated on her face, "Arranged marriages, huh? Sounds like you're having a rough time. I almost feel like giving you free dango again." She joked, but she was mostly feeling sad that a nice guy like Itachi would end up in a loveless marriage.

"That won't be necessary," Itachi said quickly. "I haven't agreed to anything." He shot an irritated look at his brother, who, for once, held his tongue.

She turned to Sasuke, and indicated his plate. "Now, as you requested, I had our chef whip you up some _savoury_ dango. I'm sure it'll be to your liking."

He frowned slightly. "I didn't see any savoury options on the menu."

She smirked, and leaned a little closer. From her standing position, that meant she could loom over him, "Well, no," she drawled, "But Chef Matada takes all unusual requests as a challenge. All our customers must leave the building satisfied… even the _obnoxious brats_."

The younger Uchiha seemed at a loss for words – perhaps he wasn't used to waitresses (or, females in general) giving him lip. Or perhaps it was her friendly smile that threw him off; she'd discovered when she was only a child that people had the most amusing reactions when they were sassed in a _friendly_ way.

"Pfft-" she looked up to see Itachi pressing his lips together, struggling to keep a straight face as he watched his brother try to decide how to react appropriately offended.

"Enjoy." She said simply, leaving before Sasuke could retort. _Uncle will get mad if I get into arguments with customers_ , she reminded herself as she entered the kitchen.

"What's up with you?" asked Matada, as she placed a tray down on the kitchen counter with a huff.

"Nothing." She muttered.

"Mm-hm." Her adoptive uncle shrugged, and went back to making their in-house speciality, a fried version of traditional dango.

"It's just that-" she burst out abruptly a few seconds later, causing Matada to curse as he splashed his hand with a droplet of oil.

"-There's this guy. He's gonna be in an arranged marriage, can you believe that?!" She said in a rush, scowling fiercely.

Matada froze, and then slowly and deliberately switched off the fryer and wiped his hands on a dishcloth.

"-I mean, isn't that just _so_ old-fashioned? Who even _does_ that anymore?!"

Matada's eyes flashed. "Saya. You like this boy? Who is he?" he demanded roughly, "How old is he? Has he _tried_ anything with you yet?!" His voice was getting louder with every word.

Saya rolled her eyes as he cracked his knuckles. She was used to his protective antics. "It's not like that, Uncle… He's just… a customer. He's… a ninja."

Matada instantly sagged against the kitchen table in relief. "Oh, good." He knew she'd never date a ninja.

"I wouldn't mind being friends with him, though." She said, somewhat wistfully.

"That's fine." Matada nodded approvingly, "Friends are good. It's too soon for you to be thinking about boys."

She chuckled. "I'm twenty-two, you know."

He shook his head fervently, " _Never_. You'll never be old enough."

"Even when I'm in a wheelchair?" she teased, amused.

"I'll be in crutches right next to you, so I can beat off all your suitors." He growled, with such determination she was quite unsure whether he was joking or not.

"Er… Right…"

"Who is this ninja, anyway?" he asked, sounding a lot calmer.

"Uchiha Itachi." She replied absently, taking down clean plates for her next order.

"WHAT?!"

She winced as their crystal glasses (kept aside for special events) shivered at the volume of the exclamation.

"Oh, _really_ , Uncle," she huffed crossly, "You get upset about the silliest things. He's just an ordinary guy… um… with, you know… _special_ eyes."

"That can kill you!"

"He seems really nice, though." She said fairly.

Matada seemed to remember how this whole topic came about, and ran a hand over his face. "Hmph… If you say so, Saya. But listen to me carefully, alright? _Don't_ get involved in that clan's business-"

"I just want to be friends-"

"Even as friends. They won't appreciate a civilian getting close to their clan heir. Ninja clans work along a different set of rules, you know that. Especially the Uchihas… they have the Konoha Police Force under their control, and they don't mind flaunting their power."

She nodded reluctantly. "I know. You're… you're probably right."

"That's my girl," said Matada with obvious relief, ruffling her hair.

She smiled and batted away his hand, then went to prepare the bill for the two Uchiha siblings.

Approaching their table again, she noticed that Sasuke was glaring at her, though he didn't say anything about her last jibe. If anything, she fancied she saw a hint of grudging respect in his ebony eyes.

"Was everything okay back there?" asked Itachi, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. He looked a little concerned. "I thought I heard a loud voice."

She smiled sheepishly, "That was my uncle, Matada. He's… a little prone to being overdramatic."

"I see." Itachi looked at her consideringly a while longer, and Saya wondered what he was thinking.

"Ahem." She coughed, to gloss over the stretch of silence, "Will that be all today?"

At last he looked away, back to his brother, and gave a faint nod.

"Here's the bill." She said pleasantly, and placed the paper on the table. Itachi paid for himself and his brother, and then stood up.

"I hope you'll come again, Itachi-san, Sasuke-san." She said politely, making sure to give a shallow bow that was not one iota deeper than she usually offered her normal customers.

Sasuke gave a snort as if to say, "Unlikely" (although Saya noticed he had eaten every single piece of his savoury dango, without one single complaint), but Itachi turned to her and smiled, once again turning her legs to jelly.

"Thank you for the recommendation, Saya-san," he said sincerely, "It was delicious."

She beamed. "You're welcome."

He shifted a moment on the spot, as if uncomfortable, "… I hope to find an opportunity to try the rest of the menu in future." He said quietly, meeting her eyes somewhat shyly.

Sasuke gave a disbelieving snort and stalked out of the restaurant, leaving Itachi lingering in the doorway.

"O-of course." She stammered ( _Why the heck am I stammering?!_ She thought incredulously). "You're welcome, anytime. I'll... uh, look forward to your next visit."

He nodded hastily and took his leave.

She went to go find a wall to hit her head against.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Yup, Sasuke's a bit of a brat! He's also very possessive of his brother, and I think at heart he takes after Fugaku in terms of personality - he's extremely stubborn and not very open-minded. But perhaps he'll come around, _eventually..._**


	3. Chapter 3: Exhaustion

**Chapter 3: Exhaustion**

* * *

He was back the very next week… and the week after that. In the third week, he came twice, on separate days, and since his timing was always different, she assumed he was visiting whenever he had an hour or so to spare between missions. He took to sitting in a window seat, gazing out at the busy streets of Konoha, and true to his word he ordered a different type of dango each time, slowly and methodically working through the menu. Which happened to be double-sided, with small print.

Most of the time she was too busy to exchange more than a few words with him outside of "Hello, Itachi-san", "What can I get you today?" and a hopeful "See you next time." At first she was a little confused – he must really like dango to want it every single week, sometimes more than once – but her observation skills were sharper than most, especially when it came to people. She realised there must be a deeper reason behind his repeated visits.

After the meals with his team and his brother, he always seemed to come alone. Each time she saw him, she began to notice that he looked slightly more gaunt, slightly more tired. She already knew from the whole "arranged marriage" conversation that things with his clan were tense, so… Maybe in his down-time, he didn't want to hang around at home, but he still didn't want to be alone.

With that realisation, she made a decision. Yes, it may not be the most sensible idea to get involved with the Uchiha clan heir, but she had never been exactly _sensible_. He really looked like he could use a friend.

The fates seemed to be on her side in her endeavor, because the next time he stopped by was mid-morning on a Sunday, and the restaurant was almost completely empty. The only other patron was a little wizened old man who came every week to play shougi against himself for three hours while sucking on dango (due to lack of teeth), and had done so for years. She would not be needed.

"Itachi-san!" she exclaimed happily as she recognised his distinctive tied-up hair and, this time, a pale-coloured ANBU flak jacket.

"Saya-san." He greeted with a small smile that didn't seem to last very long. "It's quieter here today."

She nodded. "Sundays are pretty slow before and after lunchtime. Sitting in your usual spot, I presume?"

He gave a short nod and moved over to his preferred place by the window. Saya frowned – he was moving somewhat stiffly, and the lines under his eyes seemed deeper than usual. Before he pulled out a chair and sat down, he stretched, and she heard his spine cracking under his barely audible yawn.

"You look tired." She remarked, giving him a practiced once-over, "Well, more tired than usual." She corrected. She noticed his eyebrow quirk up and clarified, "You usually come here after missions, don't you?"

Now he looked more alert. "How did you figure that out?"

"Well, you always look a little worn out and dusty," she chuckled, "And this time…" She smiled slightly and reached over, brushing a pine needle gently from his shoulder, and holding it up between her fingers. "We don't have that many pine trees in Konoha."

He blinked a few times at her slender fingers holding up the pine needle, and then his mouth opened in a quiet "Oh."

She chuckled. "I'll go get the tea. Are you getting the next dango on the menu, as usual?"

"Hn."

"I'll be right back."

She bustled about getting the tea, and took a plate of the dango Matada had just freshly prepared. It wasn't precisely _next_ on the menu, but he hadn't tried it yet, so that didn't matter. She wanted to hurry, getting the feeling that he might just fall asleep on the table if she took too long to get some food in his stomach. His colouring was a little grey.

As she walked back balancing a tray, her stomach fluttered nervously with what she was about to ask.

"Thanks." He murmured, regaining some life in his eyes at the sight of the dango sticks and the steaming pot of tea, along with… two cups?

"Um…" she started shyly, "If you wanted some company today, I, uh… the restaurant's not busy, so…"

His onyx eyes were completely unreadable as he just stared at her blankly.

"Or not, you know," she said hastily, "If you don't feel up to dealing with me that's totally understandable, you're tired, and I know I can be rather-"

"Saya-san." His cool voice broke in on her nervous babbling. "Sit down." He ordered.

Her bottom dropped into the chair across from him, and she almost face-palmed at her own eagerness. She was not a dog!

"Talking with you is… pleasant." He said after a moment, sounding very stilted and controlled. To her surprise he took the initiative to pour them both tea, his movements very precise despite his tiredness, every inch the impeccable gentlemen. His back was suddenly ramrod-straight, and she felt a little like she was witnessing a ritualised tea ceremony. All that was missing was the yukatas and someone plucking at a _shamisen_ in the background.

She hid a smile, but couldn't quite help teasing him about it. "Hm, clan training is an impressive thing to behold." She said wonderingly, resting her own elbow on the table and using it to prop up her chin as she gazed admiringly at him. He really was a handsome man.

He put down the tea pot and went very still, his face absolutely expressionless. "… What do you mean?"

"Your posture is fantastic." She said blithely, careful to keep her tone light. _As I suspected, the clan is a sensitive topic for him. I'd better tread lightly…_

He relaxed, realising she hadn't meant anything by the comment, and was just trying to break the ice. "Is it? My mother will be pleased to hear that."

She chuckled. "Matada's always telling me to stop slouching. And… You _can_ eat, you know. You look hungry." She noticed he was hovering hesitantly over his dango.

"What about you?" he politely enquired first, appearing genuinely concerned for her levels of hunger.

She waved a dismissive hand, "I had breakfast an hour ago. I'm fine with just tea."

With her permission, he hungrily started chewing on the dumplings, devouring three before Saya could even take the same number of sips of tea.

"Wow," she commented. "You're supposed to chew fifteen times before swallowing, you know."

He shot her an amused look, but didn't reply, as his mouth was still occupied.

Watching him eat wasn't gross at all; he ate neatly, his mouth closed and not a speck of anything going where it shouldn't. Just as impressive was the great speed at which he accomplished this task.

She frowned. "Itachi-san," she started slowly, "When was the last time you ate?"

He came up for air and took a sip of tea, which turned into a gulp as he drained his cup. "Hm…" he hummed thoughtfully. "…Friday night?"

Saya spluttered on her tea. " _Itachi_!" she was so shocked she forgot to add the honorific, "You haven't eaten in thirty-six hours, and the first thing you eat is _dango_?!"

He shrugged.

"Why on earth-!"

He sighed, and slumped in his seat, "Well," he muttered tiredly, rubbing a hand roughly over his face, "If I went to the Hokage's office I'd have to fill out reports for the next three hours. I've been doing back-to-back missions so there's a lot to discuss. If I went home I'd have to face the Council because I've been skipping clan meetings… Walking through the village would just attract attention from ANBU- I have to hand in reports there, too, and I just…" he sounded so frustrated, "I just… _Don't feel like it_."

She blinked at the barrage of bitter words that had just flowed out of the usually stoic ninja. It was the most she'd ever heard him speak, and the way he'd talked made it seem like the words were just tumbling out, like he had no strength to hold it back anymore. How long had he been feeling this way?

She swallowed. "So, you… came here directly from your mission? Without seeing anyone else?"

He nodded tired, avoiding her eyes and fiddling with the now-empty dango sticks.

She exhaled moodily, "Ridiculous man." She muttered, suddenly feeling galvanized with energy.

He looked up at her, surprised. "What?"

" _You_ are a ridiculous man." She told him tartly, and stood up. "Right." She said decisively. "What time is the latest you can turn in your mission report?"

He stared at her. "What do you-"

"Answer the question!" she ordered, getting her trademark no-nonsense look in her eyes.

His lips tilted up into a smile at the sight of her, clad in a " _Dango is Love! Dango is Life!_ " apron, and glowering down at him, hands on hips.

"… Bossy." He remarked, his dark eyes amused. "…I shouldn't be missed until this evening, I suppose…?"

"Great. Come with me. You need proper food, a shower – yes, pine smells nice, but you still need one – and _rest_." She paused, a horrified look coming over her, "Aren't you supposed to check in at the hospital after missions that run several days long?"

He was surprised by her knowledge of the mission code of conduct, but assured her, "I'm not injured."

"Hm," she hummed disapprovingly, running her eyes carefully over him again from head-to-toe, as if expecting to see gushing blood at any moment, "…I guess I'll take your word for it, for now. Follow me."

Perhaps it was a testament to how tired and drained of motivation he was, or perhaps he was just curious as to what she had planned, but he made no further complaint as he followed her docilely into the kitchen.

A man large and muscled enough to be a pro-wrestler, not a dango chef, was sitting in a rocking chair in one corner, reading the Konoha Daily Mail.

"Hmph?" he grunted when he looked up, "Saya, who's this?"

"This is Uchiha Itachi."

Itachi looked completely calm and collected, as if he was dragged into dango kitchens by pushy waitresses on a regular basis. He bowed respectfully, "Matada-san, I presume."

"Has my niece been bullying you?" the larger man asked frankly, putting aside his newspaper and running his eyes over Itachi assessingly. "Although… you seem like you'd be a hard man to bully."

Itachi hid a smile. This man knew _exactly_ who he was, it seemed, by the dry tone in his voice.

"Uncle!" complained Saya fiercely, stamping her foot, "I don't _bully_ anyone! Stop spreading vicious lies!"

"Hmph." The bigger man snorted, unimpressed. "So, I suppose you aren't here to bully _me_ into doing something, are you?"

Itachi watched as a dull blush spread over Saya's face, "Well," she said, fighting to keep her voice level, "I was going to _politely_ _request_ that you, _dearest uncle_ , make this guy," she jerked her thumb at Itachi, who twitched, "A sandwich."

"That's not necess-" Itachi started arguing immediately.

"A big sandwich," continued Saya, talking over him relentlessly, "Perhaps two. With meat and vegetables and everything you need for a balanced meal-"

"Saya-san, I don't need-"

"-He hasn't eaten anything since Friday night." She finished plaintively.

Matada looked from Saya's impassioned face to Itachi's barely concealed frustration… And the way his eyes kept darting impulsively to the various ingredients laid out on the counter. "Shut your trap, Uchiha." The man growled, retying his apron strings resolutely and cracking his knuckles, "I'm gonna make you the best damn sandwich you've ever had. Saya, take him upstairs and stick him in the shower. He smells like a Christmas tree."

Feeling rather stunned, Itachi allowed himself to be shoved out of the kitchen and up a narrow flight of wooden stairs, a no-nonsense hand prodding insistently into the small of his back.

"You know," he remarked as they arrived at the top of the stairs, "You and your uncle are scarily similar."

She beamed as if he'd just given her a tremendous compliment (he wasn't sure yet if it was), "Really? He's not actually related to me, though." She chattered happily, "He's my adopted uncle."

"Who adopted who?" he asked drily. He wondered where her parents were, but decided not to bring it up. He was too exhausted to deal with potentially sensitive topics.

"Oh, shush." She chuckled, tugging him by the hand into a wide and spacious room off the landing. "Now, the bathroom's through there-" she pointed at a door to their left, "And let me just find you a clean towel…" she started rummaging through a chest of drawers.

"This is your room?" Itachi asked, looking around with interest. There was a luxurious-looking Western-style bed in one corner, under a window, a desk overflowing with papers covered in scribbles next to it. The room was messy and obviously lived-in, with home-made watercolours of various places he recognised around Konoha adorning the walls, which were painted a cheerful pastel yellow. There were also numerous bookshelves stuffed with thick volumes, fiction and nonfiction alike taking up the remaining space.

"Here." She said, pushing a fluffy white towel into his hands. "Use whatever you want in the bathroom, and don't worry about making a mess."

He hesitated – he clearly wasn't used to asking or receiving help from others – but she didn't give him time to come up with a reason why he should leave.

" _Itachi_." Once again she was focused on getting her point across, she'd completely forgotten about adding the honorific, "Stop overthinking this. Let me take care of everything."

"Why…?" he asked, his dark eyes settled on hers with sudden intensity.

She met his eyes without flinching, still pumped with self-righteous, protective energy, "Because you seem like a decent man." She said simply, "And, though I wanted to bring this up in a different way… I'd like us to be friends."

"…Friends." He mused, as if the concept was completely foreign to him.

"It's up to you, of course," she assured him hastily. He was staring at her again with that unreadable look, and it made her fidget. "Ahem," she coughed, "E-either way, I want to help you out, so go and take that shower… There's clean bathrobes hanging behind the door which should be big enough for you-" she looked at his height speculatively, and muttered, "Hm, yes, you're about Matada's height, so that shouldn't be a problem. Leave the clothes you want to wash in the bathroom, and I can put it through the washer and dryer in under an hour." She saw him open his mouth, and quickly scowled, trying to look fierce, "There's no point in arguing, okay?"

"… Thank you."

For some reason his quiet gratitude made a pleased flush rise in her cheeks. "You're welcome." She managed to reply, clearing her throat, "Anytime."

With that, he turned and vanished obediently into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft _click_ behind him.

One hour later saw him sitting on the edge of her bed, freshly showered and back in his own clothes, clean now, though without the flak jacket. An empty plate sitting on the desk, with a few crumbs on it, was the only remaining evidence of the massive sandwich he had just devoured.

"You're looking a lot better," Saya said honestly, picking up the plate.

"I feel better." Itachi admitted, smiling at her so genuinely, she was sure a small part of her deep inside was swooning somewhere. "I should get going-"

"Not yet." She hurriedly said, "While you were in the shower I changed the sheets-" she indicated the bed he was perched on, "So feel free to stay and get some proper rest if you want. It's barely midday-" she said persuasively, "You can get a solid six hours of sleep before the sun starts going down."

She could see how much the thought tempted him in the way his fingers tentatively sunk into her soft duvet. She wondered how comfortable his bed was at home in the Uchiha compound.

"…Alright." He agreed at last. "I'll stay."

"Great!" she smiled. "Now, I'll be helping out my uncle downstairs, but let me know if you need anything. I'll come and wake you up at six, alright?"

"Hn." He replied. Even at the thought of sleep, she could see how his eyes had to fight to stay open. He was past exhaustion, and the hot shower and a full stomach only hastened his body's attempts to shut down.

She took the plate and walked out of the room. "Sleep well." She murmured, and closed the door afterwards. She waited a moment just outside, until she heard the creak of the mattress as his weight dipped into it, and then veritably skipped downstairs, humming a tune.

Matada didn't turn around from the fresh dango he was preparing on the kitchen counter.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Saya." He said grimly. Of course, he hadn't been able to turn away the young man who looked on the brink of falling over in exhaustion, but the fact remained that it was _Uchiha Itachi_. There was no question that the man was dangerous.

She paused, her jubilant mood tempered by his seriousness.

"Me, too." She replied after a moment.

* * *

The time seemed to drag on painfully slowly, but Saya fought the temptation to check up on her guest. It was a weakness of hers, the urge to fuss over others, and she reminded herself that just because he had let her take control today, didn't mean it would ever happen again.

He was a fully-grown man, a powerful ninja, and she'd seen first-hand the way his pride had battled his tiredness every step of the way. He would probably ensure she never saw him in a condition like this again. In fact – and this thought caused her quite a lot of anxiety – he hadn't exactly replied in the affirmative when she said she wanted to be friends. Even though he seemed so kind and humble – not arrogant and cold at all, like the rumours had painted him – perhaps he still couldn't see past the difference in their social standing. She didn't give a damn about any of that stuff herself, but she could understand if he did. It was probably just the way he'd been brought up.

And what if he thought of her as too overbearing? Did she come on too strong? Yes, she was unafraid to speak her mind, and that wasn't about to change, but perhaps she _could_ have been a little more diplomatic in the way she'd practically manhandled him into her room.

So it was with uncharacteristic tentativeness that she eased open her door at six o'clock on the dot, making sure to knock before she entered.

"Itachi-san?" she whispered, peering into the dimly-lit room. The sky through her curtained windows was a burnt orange turning to grey as the sun receded.

She needn't have worried – his finely-tuned shinobi senses had alerted him to her presence even as she laid a hand on the doorknob, and he sat up quickly, only relaxing once his thoughts had caught up with his body's instinctive movement.

She closed the door softly behind her and approached. "Itachi-san. Did you sleep well? I brought you some hot chocolate." She was using one hand to balance a tray with two mugs on it, and used her free hand to flick on the light switch, bathing the darkened room in cheerful light.

He scrubbed his face and stretched, before looking up with eyes that were brighter and much more aware than before. "That was… possibly the best sleep I've had in months." He admitted, sounding surprised by the realisation. He swung his legs out of bed and neatly pulled her sheets straight, sitting down again on the edge.

Saya felt a swooping sensation of relief– she'd been half-expecting him to wake up and immediately snap into "Uchiha clan heir mode", all blank-faced and stiff.

"I'm glad, Itachi-san." She beamed, passing him his mug and sitting a polite distance away next to him, on the side of the bed.

He took a sip, hummed in appreciation, and then turned dark eyes glinting with a hint of mischief to catch her gaze, "So," he said teasingly, "Back to Itachi _-san_ then, are we?"

She blushed, "I-I'm so sorry about that, earlier, I was – you were – so I didn't-"

"I'm not angry." He interrupted her mildly, "It's… refreshing." He tilted his head at her with a faint smile, "Please, call me Itachi… on the condition that I can drop the formality in return."

"Are you sure?" she asked dubiously. She had no question that this would raise more than a few eyebrows if it became generally known.

"I've used your shower and your bed," he teased gently, "I think we're on first-name terms by now."

She had to make sure. "So… _Itachi_ ," she asked hopefully, "Does that mean that we're… friends?" A hint of excitement made her heart speed up. She looked down at her hot chocolate, tracing the rim of the mug shyly with her thumb.

She missed the way his eyes flickered before he answered, "…Of course, Saya." He confirmed after a moment's hesitation. He swallowed thickly, "… Friends."

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Even Itachi can get friendzoned :D**

 **And yes, they celebrate Christmas in _my_ Narutoverse... Shh... Ask no questions...**


	4. Chapter 4: The Secret Life of Waitresses

**Chapter 4: The Secret Life of Waitresses**

* * *

 _She missed the way his eyes flickered before he answered, "…Of course, Saya." He confirmed after a moment's hesitation. He swallowed thickly, "… Friends."_

"I'm glad." She said happily. Taking a sip of her hot chocolate, she wiped a bit of foam from the corner of her mouth and licked her finger.

She looked up in surprise as Itachi suddenly gave a world-weary sigh, and rubbed his eyes, for some reason turning his head away from her. He muttered something that sounded very much like "I'm an idiot" under his breath, but she didn't quite catch it.

"Sorry?" she asked, puzzled.

"Nevermind." He said hastily. "Just talking to myself."

"... Okay."

Saya blinked at him as he avoided her eyes, and seemed to be casting about for another topic. His gaze fell on the desk to the right of the bed. "Are you writing something?" he asked with sincere curiosity, tilting his head at the mess of papers there.

Saya hesitated. "I'll tell you," she said, steeling herself. She looked at him very seriously, "But you have to keep it a secret."

He raised an eyebrow at that.

She got up and walked over to her bookshelf, retrieving two volumes of identical size, but different colours. "I'm, um… I'm actually not a waitress." She admitted.

He stared at her. She was still wearing her apron. "Could have fooled me." He quipped.

She smiled sheepishly, "Well, I _am_ a waitress in the sense that I serve tables, but… Matada doesn't pay me, so it's technically not my job." She shrugged, "I enjoy keeping myself busy and talking to people, so I don't mind helping out. But I'm actually working on _these_." She held up the books.

"You're a writer?" he said, surprised. He took the books that she hesitantly offered to him. "You published these?"

She blushed. "Yes, under a fake name."

"What kind of books are they?" he asked, turning them over to read the back.

Saya leaned against her desk. "Well, two years ago," she explained, "Matada and I went to Rock Country to visit his family, and a lot of interesting things happened while we were there. I had so much fun, I started writing things down... Just little anecdotes about the food, the places, the people we met… When I got back I put it all together and Matada convinced me to give it to a publisher. I did and… he said it might sell."

"And did it?"

"I've been… moderately successful," she said modestly, but Itachi could hear a hint of pride in her voice that made him wonder just how well her books did. Somehow, he wasn't that surprised at the subject matter; she was inquisitive and chatty, and (in his opinion) dangerously observant. Humorous travel-writing would suit her personality to a T.

"So I signed on to write a series using the same concept –" she continued, "Basically just travelling and writing about what happens along the way. With a focus on _civilians_ , of course." She emphasised, seeing the question on Itachi's face. "I don't think ninjas would take kindly to being interviewed." She chuckled, "The second book turned out better; I visited Lightning Country and made sure to stop along some famous landmarks, try out some _infamous_ local food." She winced. "I even learnt a traditional dance native to Lightning in one of the western villages."

"That's… fascinating." Itachi said truthfully, "So little is known about the different countries, besides research on their military strength. Could I borrow these books?" he asked seriously, "I really want to read them."

She blushed immediately. "Um… sure, I suppose…"

He raised an eyebrow, amused, "They've been published for more than a year already, right?"

"Yes, but I've never…" she fumbled with the words, "Well, other than Matada and my publisher, no one else knows I'm the writer." She admitted. "If you think they're stupid, you'll think _I'm_ stupid."

"I already know you aren't stupid." He immediately assured her. "Far from it. And I'm honoured to be entrusted with your secret." He said solemnly.

She blushed again. "Well, thanks. So..." she gestured at the desk, "At the moment I'm planning out my next trip, to Wind Country..."

A thought suddenly struck him. "Did Matada-san go with you to Lightning, as well?"

She shook her head, "No, he couldn't take time away from the restaurant. I went alone-" she made a calming gesture at Itachi's alarmed expression, "It was _fine_ , I travelled with a merchant caravan across the border, and then I made a lot of friends along the way, which was sort of the point. I wasn't alone for the vast majority of the trip."

He frowned. "Still, it's not safe to travel alone. Matada-san let you go?"

She winced. "He… thought I was going with friends, to be honest. But I'm old enough to take care of myself!" she said strongly, "I know the risks. Next time, I'll probably hire some genin to escort me to Wind… At least to the border. I've heard there's some bandit activity on the roads."

"Make sure you do." He said firmly, still looking concerned. "Just because we signed a peace treaty with the other nations doesn't mean that their shinobi will act accordingly, if they suspect you're a spy."

"A civilian travelling the main roads doesn't attract much attention," she reminded him, "There are plenty of people crossing the borders all the time. I mean, you can tell by just looking at me I'm not much of a threat." She gestured vaguely at herself.

Itachi ran his eyes over her carefully. It was true, she didn't stand out too much; her soft build and curvaceous figure lacked the muscle tone all kunoichi possessed. Her unmarked hands were also a dead give-away that she'd probably never handled anything sharper than a butter knife. And overall, her cheerful and friendly demeanor was very hard to distrust. She was also a lot smarter and more observant that she looked…

 _Hm_ , he thought wryly, _Wouldn't all of that just make her, in fact, an excellent spy?_

"Still," he said at last, dragging his eyes back to her expectant face, "There are civilian spies, too. Just… will you let me know your travel plans before you leave?"

She smiled, touched by how seriously he was taking this. "I will," She said, _"_ But only if you promise to take better care of yourself."

"Me?" he seemed surprised.

"Of course," she said, frowning, "You seemed really worn out today. Maybe you should talk to your superiors," she suggested, quite seriously, "Tell them you need a bit more time to recoup between missions."

He gave a soft, humourless snort. "Haven't you heard of my reputation?" he said quietly, a tinge of bitterness infecting his voice. "I'm infallible."

"I _have_ heard of your reputation." she said, not amused by his attempt at flippancy, "And however fearsome your ninja skills might be," she said stubbornly, " _No one_ is infallible."

His black eyes were unreadable. "Most civilians are afraid of me." he stated, and then paused.

"Are you asking why I'm not?"

He merely gazed at her in silence.

She shrugged. "Perhaps I just can't think badly of a man who likes dango so much."

At that, Itachi's expression eased a little, and he finally looked away.

"It's getting late… I should get going." he said next. He started pulling on his shoes.

"I hope the Hokage doesn't give you grief for being late." Saya remarked, somewhat anxiously.

"Tsunade-sama won't mind," he murmured, "To be honest, she's been ordering me to take better care of myself for weeks."

He picked up his flak jacket, which had been laying over the back of her desk-chair. He pulled it over his head quickly – Saya couldn't help ogling his back muscles as they rippled, pulling his black undershirt taut against his body with the movement. She instantly felt guilty for her inappropriate thoughts, but he was very handsome. She was only human, too.

Unaware of her scrutiny, he buckled on his utility belt.

Saya's brain suddenly caught up with what he'd said last. "The Hokage is not the one who's been giving you back-to-back missions?" She asked, confused.

Itachi glanced at her, as if debating how to answer. "It's... complicated." he said at last. "There are various… _Factions_ in the village that I answer to." A shadowed look came over his face, "They don't all have the same approaches to solving problems. It's a balancing act that I've had to deal with for a long time."

"I'm sorry." She murmured.

He looked surprised. "Why are _you_ sorry?"

"Of _course_ I'm sorry." She replied, meeting his eyes earnestly, "You looked half-dead today, no offence…"

"Thanks." He muttered drily. She waved a hand dismissively.

"Civilians in the village like to take what they have for granted," she continued, "But I don't. I'm sure you've had to sacrifice a lot, in the service of Konoha, so… I'm sorry. And you're welcome back anytime," she offered, "To talk or eat or… Whatever."

He was silent for a long moment, once again just gazing at her with an unreadable expression, and then his mouth quirked up into a mischievous smile. "Or… Whatever?" he teased.

"Oh, shut up." She flapped a hand at him, blushing again. Was he _flirting_? "Perhaps you're spending too much time with Genma-san."

"Perhaps." He allowed, still smiling. "Thank you, Saya. For everything."

"You're welcome."

He slid open her window.

"You're not going to use the door?" she laughed.

"Ninja." He reminded her, and smiled crookedly. "Tell Matada-san I said thank you for the sandwich and the hospitality. I left some money on your desk to cover the food-"

"Oh! That wasn't necessary!"

He just shrugged.

She was suddenly sad that he was leaving, and a strange anxiety came over her. "Hey, Itachi…"

He was perched on the windowsill, clutching her books to his chest. "Hm?"

She bit her lip. "…Take care of yourself. And come back soon, alright?"

He was quiet for a beat, his dark eyes softening as he took in her anxious expression. "… I will."

He leapt out into the night and vanished.

Saya was lost in thought for a few minutes, before she drew the curtains closed, and gave a deep sigh. She threw herself down on her bed with a huff.

She turned her face into the pillow.

"You smell nice." she whispered, and then rolled her eyes at her own foolishness.

 _I DON'T date ninjas...!_


	5. Chapter 5: Friday

**Chapter 5: Friday**

* * *

True to his word, Itachi was back again the following week, this time on a Friday evening.

And he wasn't alone; since it was the restaurant's weekly "Happy Hour", Genma, Hayate and a purple-haired kunoichi had been convinced to accompany him. The kunoichi seemed a little reserved, but gave Saya a small smile and introduced herself as Yuko. From the way she remained close by Hayate's side, and the attentiveness he displayed towards her, Saya could surmise that they were in a relationship. It was quite sweet.

In contrast, Genma was definitely on the prowl, and with the promise of alcohol, he was in a splendid mood. Within an hour the table had already consumed four rounds of beer due to his enthusiastic ordering.

Itachi, of course, refused Genma's attempts to entice him to drink, and had his usual dango and green tea instead. He seemed quiet, content to let his teammates chatter and joke, but Saya noticed with confusing pleasure that he always had a smile for her, when she came over.

"How are you doing?" Saya asked him quietly when she had a moment, critically casting her gaze over the shadows under his eyes. He looked run-down and pale again.

At least his happiness at seeing her seemed genuine. "I'm fine," he assured her, "I don't have any missions lined up for the next three days, so I'll have time to rest."

She nodded slowly, "That's good. My, uh… window's always open for you, if you need somewhere to escape to." She offered, somewhat hopefully. Something about this man always seemed to make her want to sit him down and feed him properly.

He nodded slowly, "I'll keep that in mind." From under the table came a rustling of paper, and then he pulled out a brown paper bag. "By the way," he explained, offering her the bag, "I finished reading the books you lent me." She noticed how careful he was not to allude to her true identity as the author, and warmth flooded through her. She was glad she'd told him… but also nervous.

She automatically took the offered bag from him, biting her lip. "A-already?" she said, flustered, and gave a nervous laugh, "I wouldn't think you had the time."

"Well, I did." He said, looking amused by her uncharacteristic shyness, "People kept comparing me to Kakashi on my missions… He's a shinobi that–" he shook his head at her uncomprehending expression, "Well, never mind. Anyway, I thought they were amazing. A really refreshing perspective on the other countries; not what makes us different, but what makes us unique. You showed the humanity in each encounter with ordinary people."

She flushed in pleasure, "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I did." He confirmed, "And I'll be buying my own copies, so I can show my support."

"Oh, you don't have to do that…"

"But it'll look so great on my bookshelf." He smiled crookedly, tilting his head at her, and she was embarrassed to admit her heart skipped a beat.

"Okay, then." She squeaked, clearing her throat in embarrassment.

He seemed to get more serious, "I did notice that the books did go on rather… _candidly_ … about the Kishimoto noble family, in Lightning-"

Instantly her eyes flashed, "Mm. Horrible man, that lord. And his wife, sitting there in all her silks like a beached whale-"

"Are you aware they have their own shinobi militia?" he interrupted, frowning.

She winked, "Well, that's the benefit of publishing _anonymously_ , isn't it?"

He sighed. "I suppose there's no point in asking this talented author to be more careful, is there?"

She beamed at him. "I'd better get the next round before Genma dies of thirst."

Hearing his name, Genma turned and cheerfully called out, "C'mon Saya-chan, stop flirting with the Captain and bring us some more booze!"

Itachi scowled, but Saya just chuckled and sent a half-bow of apology to the rest of the table. She was still buzzing with Itachi's compliments as she clutched the paper bag to her chest. Matada looked up as she virtually skipped into the kitchens, humming.

"Three beers, one pot of tea, one raspberry and cream dango platter," she trilled, doing a little pirouette as she placed the brown paper bag on a high shelf, out of the way for the moment.

"What's up with you?" Matada growled suspiciously.

"Itachi likes my books," she gushed, getting clean beer mugs lined up on a tray.

His rolling pin clipped the table with a loud _clack_ as he gaped at her. "You let him read your books? He _knows_ you're the author?!"

She shrugged. "He asked about the papers in my room last week, so I told him about it. It wasn't a big deal."

"Not a big d-!" he spluttered, "Saya, I had to threaten to withhold food from you for two _months_ just to get a glance at your stories! No one else knows about it except your publisher!" his chest began to puff out in indignation, like a bullfrog, "Just how close are you getting to this boy?!"

"Ooh, there's a boy?" gushed Fu, mincing into the kitchen breezily. Fu was Matada's second waitress, and one of Saya's best friends. She usually helped out during busier times like Happy Hour Fridays. About a year younger than Saya, she was a friendly and vivacious brunette with purple streaks in her wavy bangs. "Do tell!"

Saya blinked at her in surprise – her identity as an author was a secret, after all - but it seemed Fu had only arrived at the end of the conversation, and instantly fixated on the potential for gossip. "He's _just_ a friend," she stressed. Perhaps that should become her catchphrase.

Matada grunted distrustfully.

Fu sidled up to Saya, a wicked glint in her eye, "Hey, it wouldn't happen to be the dark-haired guy that keeps _staring_ at you every time your back is turned?"

"Oh, now there's _staring_. That's how it starts…" muttered Matada darkly.

Colour rose in Saya's face. "He doesn't _stare_!" she fidgeted with the tray, "...Does he?"

Matada pummeled Itachi's order of dango a little harder than was strictly necessary.

"Hey, don't take it out on the food!" she protested. Matada gave her the evil eye and fired up the fryer bad-temperedly.

Fu tugged insistently on her sleeve. "Hey, Saya," she said bossily, "If you're going to marry the Uchiha Clan Heir, can I be your bridesmaid?"

"I'm not getting marr-"

Fu gasped and suddenly waved her arms wildly, "No! Scratch that! Get him to introduce me to his cousin – the hot one! Or… or his brother! His brother is a little on the young side, but… Hell, is his father happily married? Does he have a single uncle? Even a distant male relative, that's been estranged from the main family-!"

"You are being ridiculous." Saya deadpanned, and picked up her tray, exiting the kitchens with her nose in the air. Fu just laughed.

* * *

Around an hour and a half into service, Genma waved her over, a wide smirk on his face.

She sighed and finished wiping up the table she'd just cleared – a few beers in, and he was giving her _that look_ again – and tucked the dishcloth in her apron pocket.

"Coming." She said absently, and meandered over. Her other customers were a little rowdy, but at least they all had drinks in their hands; she wouldn't be needed for a few minutes.

"Saya-chan," Genma said brightly, a slight flush on his cheeks, "You had any second thoughts about giving me a chance?" he winked, simultaneously tipping his ever-present senbon roguishly at her.

"Nope." She responded promptly. "Would you like to order anything else?"

"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that…" he started whining.

Hayate groaned theatrically, evidently used to his teammate hitting on every available woman. "Genma, give it a rest tonight, will you?" Yuko laughed at his plaintive demand.

"Indeed," Itachi said, sounding extremely dry, "Your constant rejection is only amusing the first two times."

Saya stifled a chuckle, shooting him a small smile. Itachi returned it, looking pleased.

She started piling the empty plates and beer mugs littering the table automatically, distracted by Itachi's hands; he was absently playing with one of the thin dango sticks. Sensing her gaze, he deftly made it dance over his fingers for her amusement. She chuckled.

Meanwhile, the rest of the table seemed to focus on Genma's failure. Yuko's eyebrows rose, and she teased wickedly, "This is unusual, Genma. Lost your touch?"

The charismatic ninja looked vaguely offended. "It's not personal, though. Right, Saya-chan?" he looked imploringly at Saya, who reluctantly looked up from Itachi's distracting dexterity. "Back me up here. If I weren't a ninja, you'd have no issue with saying yes, right?"

Saya blinked at him, and decided to take pity on the guy – his male ego was obviously wounded, and it didn't really matter. She smiled generously, "Sure, Genma-san, I suppose I'd have no complaints."

 _Snap_. She blinked at Itachi, who had somehow managed to break the wooden dango stick in one white-knuckled hand.

She cocked her head at him. "You okay?"

He let the shards of broken wood fall to the table. "Fine." He said shortly, jaw tense.

She swept up the pieces onto her tray with a shrug.

"See." Genma nodded to Yuko, "It's not personal!"

Yuko looked curiously at Saya. "You don't date ninja?" she repeated slowly, and nodded with a sigh, "Well, I suppose I can't blame you. It's understandable."

Hayate looked at his girlfriend in surprise. "… It is?"

Yuko raised an eyebrow at him, as if the answer was obvious. "There are many reasons. Civilians and ninja don't often mix – there will always be things a ninja can't share with their spouse – assassination, seduction missions, torture… A ninja's work isn't pleasant. There is this whole other side to a person that they wouldn't know." Finished Yuko seriously, "Wouldn't _want_ to know."

Itachi was looking down at the table with a blank look, his expression inscrutable.

Saya frowned. "No, actually I don't date ninja because-" she started.

"Itachi-sama!" a loud, shrill voice interrupted her, and they all looked around at the door. A tall, willowy woman with waist-length, jet-black hair and matching dark eyes had just stalked into the restaurant. She prowled closer with a razor-thin smile, "What a surprise to run into you, while I was stopping for some…" her dark eyes flashed to the menu noticeboard on the wall briefly, "Uh… Dango." She said, glancing around dismissively, with a slight curl of her lip, as if she didn't think much of the place.

Itachi leveled her with a flat, completely unamused look. "What a coincidence." He deadpanned.

Genma shot the newcomer a flirtacious smile, "Hey, Misao-chan! Remember me?" he said hopefully, "It's been a few years since we were on a team toge-"

The beautiful kunoichi completely ignored him."Itachi-sama." She said in a businesslike tone, "Tomorrow our families are having dinner together. I wanted to ensure you didn't forget – I know how _busy_ you are these days." The way her voice hissed reminded Saya of a venomous snake… and what she'd said also implied that Itachi often used the excuse to get out of social engagements. Somewhere deep inside, Saya felt oddly happy about that.

"Oh, it's tomorrow?" Itachi said, again in that same, utterly detached voice, his flat gaze never wavering. "I'd completely forgotten. Unfortunately, I _do_ have other plans."

Misao balled her fists, her dark eyes narrowing, "This dinner has been planned for _weeks_!" she fought to keep her frustration from showing in her voice. It didn't work. "What can you _possibly_ have to do that is more important than the future of the clan?"

 _Future of the clan…?_ Saya looked at her with new eyes, suddenly realizing she had the tray in a death-grip. Was this Itachi's proposed fiancé?

Itachi blinked. "… Teambuilding exercises." he said calmly. His eyebrow rose slightly as he glanced at Genma and Hayate, who were watching the altercation with wide eyes.

"Uh – yup, that's absolutely right." Genma blurted belatedly, wincing as if his shins had just been kicked. "… Teambuilding exercises."

Hayate coughed, and nodded seriously, "Unavoidable. Special training – we can't do it any other time."

Confronted with this united show of defiance, Saya observed in fascination as the taller Uchiha woman seemed to swell to the verge of spontaneous combustion. She trembled with the effort of holding back, but eventually she got herself under control again. She gave a thin smile that was more teeth than lips, and said sweetly, "Well, Itachi-sama, since it might be a while before we can spend some time together, could I join your table?"

Itachi didn't seem pleased, but he couldn't exactly refuse. With his clan upbringing, he was hard-wired to be polite. He dutifully nodded, indicating the empty chair next to Yuko.

Misao ignored him and yanked a chair away from another table of patrons without bothering to ask – they were too intoxicated to care, anyway – and dragged it over to position herself right next to Itachi, seating herself with a self-satisfied, Uchiha-trademark smirk.

Mustering up a friendly smile which felt strange on her face, Saya turned on her waitress-mode and greeted her newest customer, "Good evening! Welcome to Konoha's Finest Dango Eatery." She rattled off the rehearsed greeting with as much sincerity as she could muster. "My name is Saya, is there anything-"

"Coffee." Misao interrupted dismissively, not even looking at her. Her shrewd eyes were fixed with a strange hungriness on Itachi's impassive face, "Black, no sugar."

Saya bit back a retort, and simply gritted out, "Coming right up." She managed to catch Itachi shooting her an apologetic glance, making her feel just a little bit better.

"Saya-chan," Genma said, perking up as he got a sudden idea, "C'mere for a second…" he crooked a finger at her, looking mischievous.

She paused at his shoulder with the tray, mildly irritated. "What is it now?"

"I feel like the mood has been killed," he stage-whispered, cupping his hands to disguise his words. From Misao's glare, it didn't work. "Bring us a round of shots."

Her eyebrow rose, taking in his flushed appearance. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she said dubiously.

He waved a hand dismissively, "Pshaw, of course. I can handle it."

"As you wish." She dutifully acquiesced, and finally left.

"Who's _that?"_ asked Fu inquisitively, craning her head around the door of the kitchen to ogle the newest addition to Saya's table, "Wow, she's so pretty! Look how long her legs are, and her skin is so smooth, her eyelashes – Are they real? She has a… like a _regal_ look about her, wouldn't you say? The way she carries herself is definitely-"

"Jeez, Fu, start a fan club, why don't you?" growled Saya sourly, giving the temperamental coffee-maker an irritable _smack_ so that the machine belatedly whirred into life. She got down five shot-glasses; even if Itachi continued his no-drinking trend, Genma would surely compensate.

Fu blinked at her, and then grinned, "Sorry, Saya." She peered out again, and said wickedly, "Of course, look at her chest, it might as well be an ironing-board, eh? And it's obvious she's a ninja and all, but seriously, she's all just angles and sharp edges. The way she's hanging onto your guy's arm can't be comfortable..."

"I'm not jealous!" Saya denied hotly, as she poured the shots carefully, "I just feel bad for him; she seems like a real piece of work. And he's not _my guy_ – he can have as many other women hanging over him as he wants." She resolutely ignored the immediate resentment that seared through her veins at the mere thought of _other women_ hanging on his arm.

Fu patted her shoulder sympathetically, "Sure, sure, whatever you say. Don't spit in her coffee, though."

Saya looked sheepish – the thought _had_ crossed her mind. "… I wasn't going to." She lied.

"And try to keep that sharp tongue in check," Fu said sternly, a gleeful spark in her eye nevertheless, "Because she's a ninja - she could probably cause you lasting pain with her pinky finger, you know."

Saya raised an eyebrow at her as she picked up her tray, "Now you're telling me to back off? I thought you were already designing my wedding dress." She said drily.

Fu didn't bat an eye. "I did." She said promptly, "Backless lace and chiffon. But you should keep the blossoming romance under wraps... _Especially_ in front of other Uchihas. They are very attractive," she sighed enviously, "But they also have a reputation for _instability,_ y'know? They won't stand idly by if they think he's succumbing to a civilians'… uh…" she stifled a chuckle, "… _Feminine charms_."

Saya shook her head resolutely. "Like I said, I'm only interested in friendship with Itachi." Her jaw tightened, "And if _someone_ thinks they can stand in the way of that," she said frostily, "Then we're going to have a problem, no matter how _dangerous_ she may be."

Fu winced at the determined gleam in Saya's eye as she walked with purpose back to the table to deliver the new arrival's coffee, knowing one thing for sure; this wasn't going to end well.

* * *

Placing the coffee in front of Misao, Saya felt proud that there wasn't a single iota of extra force put behind the movement. She arranged the shots in a line on the table – Hayate and Yuko good-naturedly took theirs, clinking them together before downing them. Itachi grimaced and pushed his shot away – Misao followed his lead and did the same, sipping her coffee somewhat moodily. Genma took the rejection of his order without blinking, and cheerfully threw back all three remaining shots in quick succession.

Saya turned to Itachi, who was looking uncomfortable; Misao had possessively taken his left arm hostage. She didn't know why he didn't just tell her to back off.

"Can I get you anything else, Itachi?" Saya asked him, trying not to grit her teeth too obviously, "Or are you… _quite_ satisfied?"

"I'm fine, Saya." He answered blandly, knowing exactly what she meant. He sighed, "I expect we'll soon be calling it a night, anyway-"

"Wait just a moment, _waitress_." said Misao, almost spitting the words. "Did I just hear you correctly?"

"Pardon?" Saya said cautiously, meeting the taller woman's deadly gaze squarely. Was it just her imagination, or was there a hint of red bleeding into the black of her iris…?

"Did you just call Itachi-sama _by his first name_?!" she screeched, attracting the gaze of nearby customers. "The _impudence_ -!"

"Misao-san," Itachi immediately broke in, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hand as if he had a headache coming on, "I _asked_ Saya to-"

"I know exactly what went down." Misao sneered over Itachi's explanation, her eyes unwaveringly boring into Saya's. "This wench presumed to address you informally, and out of your own good upbringing you decided to let it pass-"

Saya folded her arms, but held her peace for the moment… after all, she wasn't exactly _wrong_ with how the whole first-name thing had come about…

"I know these kinds of women, Itachi-sama," Misao snarled, "Has she invited you into her bed yet?"

Saya was unable to help herself, and a great snort of laughter escaped her before she could hold it back. Itachi caught her eye and gave a very unconvincing cough.

"Of- of course not." He said, quickly regaining his usual smoothness. "You're being ridiculous. And insulting."

She completely ignored his quiet rebuke, in favour of giving Saya the evil eye.

In response, Saya gave a wolfish smile, meeting her gaze without fear. "That's alright, _Itachi_ ," she said deliberately and with relish. Misao stiffened noticeably. "I'm used to dealing with all sorts of folk in my line of work."

"Would that be prostitution?" snarled Misao.

" _Misao-san_." Itachi hissed again, with more annoyance, but was yet again ignored.

Saya merely smirked, knowing she had probably seen much more of the world than this skinny kunoichi, and at the very least, Itachi knew that. Not that it was a competition, of course…

"Don't get any ideas, girl," Misao sneered, "Itachi-sama is _far_ out of your league."

Saya didn't quite know why, but that stung. She scowled. "I think Itachi is perfectly capable of making his own decisions," she snapped, and then instantly flushed. That almost sounded like… Even Itachi was now staring at her. "Even if he was so inclined," she hastily tacked on, clearing her throat. "Which, of course, he isn't…" she continued with an uncomfortable laugh, "That is to say… We're friends… Which has got nothing to do with you."

"Friends?" screeched Misao. She gave an ugly laugh. "As if that's all you're interested in!"

"I'm not friends with Itachi just to get into his pants, if that's what you're implying!" Saya said hotly.

Hayate started wheezing with laughter. Yuko cheered, "You tell her!" and then broke into a fit of giggles, the alcohol obviously having an effect.

Misao's lip curled. "Oh, so you're not attracted to him at all?" she said sarcastically.

"Not at all!" lied Saya, and then instantly flinched. "Um… not that you aren't attractive," she hastily assured Itachi, whose face was suddenly quite blank. "Uh… sorry…"

"That's quite alright." he muttered faintly.

Genma suddenly entered the conversation, waving an arm wildly for peace, and almost sweeping his beer off the table as he did so. "Shtop fighting," he slurred, "Saya doesn't date ninjas anyways. And we all know Itachi's sweet on me." He tipped a wink at his blank-faced team-leader and disappeared into his beer again, chuckling.

Misao ignored his last statement and fixated on the first. "Oh, one of _those_ , are you?" she sneered, eyes lighting up with vicious triumph, "Our hands too bloody for you?" she pushed herself up from the table, challenging loudly, "You think you're too good for us _murderous shinobi_?!"

Saya clenched her jaw, annoyed that for the second time this evening, someone was making an untrue assumption about her. "No," she retorted angrily, "That's not the case at all. But I have no need to justify myself to the likes of _you_." She glanced around at the rest of the patrons, who were silent and staring at them. "Now," she said, in a calmer tone which had a subtly dangerous edge to it, "Misao-san, your coffee is on the house. But I would like to ask you to _leave_ , before more of a disturbance is caused in my restaurant."

The beautiful kunoichi's eyes suddenly bled into red, three black commas pinwheeling around her pupils. Saya caught her breath in shock, unable to help the instinctive pang of fear at the sight of those unnaturally bright eyes fixated on her. "You dare-!" Misao started shrilly.

" _Enough_."

Instantly Itachi was between them, his body angled to block Saya from meeting Misao's Sharingan. Suddenly Saya could breathe again. And while his voice hadn't changed a decibel in volume, his displeasure and authority was unmistakable, forbidding anger in every line of his tense posture.

"Itachi-sama, I-" Misao stammered, suddenly nervous.

"Go back to the compound." He coldly interrupted her, "Need I remind you that it is against our laws to use your Bloodline Limit to attack or threaten a civilian?"

"I wasn't trying to-"

"And yet you did. It looks like I _will_ be visiting your family after all, tomorrow," he said icily, "If only for a short conversation." He looked away from her pointedly.

Misao reeled back as if struck. She looked on the brink of tears, but simply gave him a shallow bow and then virtually ran out of the door.

There was a resounding silence. Slowly, talk and movement started up again in the restaurant as the other patrons realised the drama was over.

Itachi turned to Saya, his face schooled back to a mask-like neutrality, except for a slight tightness in his jaw, which spoke of his residual anger. He bowed his head. "I apologise for the disturbance." He said formally.

She forced a smile. "It's not your fault. I also… shouldn't have lost my temper."

His gaze lingered on her a moment longer, and then he turned to the others, who were waiting expectantly. He nodded, "Time to call it a night, I think."

Hayate and Genma squabbled a bit over the bill, Genma eventually leaving Saya a gigantic tip " _for being the most badass waitress in Konoha_ ", apparently. Then he clapped Itachi on the shoulder (who still looked irritated with how things had turned out), and laughed, drawling, "Well – at least now you won't be getting married, ehyyy? I never liked her, myself."

Yuko snorted. "You tried to hit on her as soon as she walked in!"

Hayate added some other humourous comment as they walked out together, sending a cheerful wave of goodbye to Saya.

Itachi nodded once, and seemed to be avoiding her eyes. He followed them out.

Saya swallowed, feeling oddly upset.

"Itachi, wait!"

The street was virtually empty, it was so late, and the other three were already out of earshot, walking with linked arms and laughing at some joke. Otherwise, it was calm and silent, nothing but the faint sound of crickets and the pale light of the moon. Itachi turned, his face still unreadable, as she hesitantly approached.

"Um. I just wanted to explain-" she started awkwardly, unnerved as usual by his dark gaze. He was just so… Intense. In a quiet way. That didn't even make sense. "You know, earlier… about why I don't date ninjas."

His eyes flickered, an almost imperceptible tenseness entering his posture. "It's fine." He said immediately, verging on abruptness. "It's none of my business."

"I _want_ you to understand." She clarified, a little stronger, and met his eyes. She shrugged, smiling slightly to diffuse the inexplicable tension that seemed to have suddenly sprung up between them. "I don't know why it's become this big thing – it's not a secret." She admitted. "The truth is…" she took a breath. "My parents were ninjas."

Instantly his eyes softened, as he understood. They _were_ ninja... But no longer.

She smiled tremulously. "It's alright. I was… very young. I don't really remember them… and I have Matada. But… I decided, a long time ago, that I didn't want to experience such a terrible loss again. I wouldn't want my children – if I ever have them - to grow up with that uncertainty hanging over them."

He nodded, looking compassionate. "That is… very understandable." His eyes were sad.

Saya relaxed, relieved. "I didn't want you to think I saw you as a bad person," she explained earnestly, "Because that can't be further than the truth. My parents _died_ for Konoha – to protect me and everyone else who lives here – and I will always cherish that sacrifice. The work of a ninja is not pleasant, I _know_ that… But this is the way the world is now, so I know it is necessary. And it breaks my heart that good people like you, and Genma, and Hayate, and Yuko… huh, even Misao, I suppose… that you must do those terrible things, and put your lives on the line… Every day."

He was silent for a moment. "It means a lot to me," he said quietly at last, and she heard his sincerity in every word, "That you believe that." He dropped his voice so low she almost didn't hear him, "Sometimes it is hard to remember what I'm fighting for… The kind of future I'm fighting for."

"…Which is?" she asked, captivated by his despairing gaze.

"… A world without the necessity of ninja. Without war." He answered quietly. "Was that how your parents died?" he asked carefully, "In the last war?"

She nodded. "The Third Great Shinobi War. I'm not the only orphan from that time. Did your parents fight, too?"

A faint expression of discomfort crossed his face. "Yes," He sighed, "We were placed on the front-lines. It was…" he struggled for a moment, "… A terrible war."

Saya froze. "Wait." She said slowly, an awful feeling of horror uncurling in her belly. " _We_? You were-?"

He nodded slowly, watching her reaction.

She blankly shook her head. "No… but that's- the timing doesn't make sense." She looked baffled. "How old are you?"

"Saya-" he looked away, uncomfortable.

"Itachi. Please…" she caught his eye and repeated the question urgently, "How old are you?"

He slowly met her eyes again, resigned. "… Twenty-five."

She stared at him in absolute horror.

 _Four, going on five_ , she thought numbly. _He was barely over a toddler in a war-!_

She clapped a hand over her mouth, and stumbled back almost involuntarily. "I think I'm going to be sick…"

His eyes widened at her response, and he looked for a moment like she had just slapped him through the face. "I-"

"No…! It's just… wrong." She said blankly, "You were just a _child_ -"

"It was necessary." He said automatically, defending his father's decision. He'd already achieved the Sharingan, and that meant in clan law he was permitted – _expected_ – to fight. His father had no choice but to lead by example – he could not spare his son from the horror of war and expect the rest of his clan to risk their lives. "We were losing the war." He murmured, "We needed every capable fighter."

His shoulders visibly tensed as he saw tears fill her wide eyes, dripping down silently. "Saya, don't-" he said awkwardly, "It's… I'm fine, and-"

But of course it wasn't _fine_. How could Konoha do this... To its own children? It made her feel physically sick, that her safe, happy childhood had been bought not only by her parents' lives, but by the sacrifice of the innocence and happiness of _other children._ How could she be okay with that?!

But perhaps it wasn't so bad, she found herself thinking desperately. Perhaps he'd been in the war in more of a support capacity. Perhaps-

She swallowed, "D-did you… kill people?" she asked, her emotions stripping all delicacy from the question.

Instantly his expression was wiped absolutely blank, and he went very still.

She instantly realised her mistake. "Oh! I didn't mean - I'm sorry, I- that was insensitive of me- you don't have to-" she found herself reaching out a tentative hand to his arm, trying to apologise.

But he stepped back, putting more space between them, and she stopped, eyes still wet with tears, wide on his face. His expression was utterly devoid of emotion, but she knew - he had been hurt. Hurt by the horror in her eyes.

His face was shadowed. "Yes, Saya." He said very quietly, his voice utterly emotionless. "I killed other shinobi. I killed _children_." He turned away from her. "Perhaps it is best if you kept your distance from someone like me."

And in one abrupt swirl of leaves, he disappeared before she could say another word.


	6. Chapter 6: Atonement

**Chapter 6: Atonement**

* * *

That weekend Saya sank into a minor depression. She kept replaying the fateful conversation over and over in her head, mentally kicking herself for being so insensitive. Her genuine concern and her reason for being upset on his behalf was understandable, she felt, but she realised how it must have come across. If only she could talk to him, and explain!

The next week she threw herself into her work at the restaurant with manic energy. Every time a new guest arrived she'd almost give herself whiplash turning around, her heart soaring in hope for a moment as she scanned the doorway, before the crushing reality sank in. He didn't come back.

He didn't visit the next week, either.

By the third week, even Matada had had enough.

"Saya." he growled one morning, exasperated. The restaurant would be opening in an hour, and he was just about to open the front doors. Saya was sitting with her head resting on her arms at one of the window tables, staring out with unfocused eyes at the quiet street in front of the establishment.

He stomped over. "You need to _stop-"_ he gestured at her, "All of _this."_

She raised her head lethargically and blinked at him. "I'm not doing anything." she protested.

 _"Exactly."_ he scowled. "When was the last time you wrote something for your book? Or saw your friends?"

It was the wrong choice of words, apparently.

Her eyes glazed over in misery, "Mm... yes, friends..." she mumbled, and looked out the window again. She let out a heavy sigh.

Matada huffed in annoyance. He had dealt with her teenage tantrums a few years back, and was grateful when she grew out of them (she had been a rather over-dramatic teenage girl) - but she was older now, already an adult. All this _moping_ was getting ridiculous.

"This is about that Uchiha boy, isn't it?" he demanded, nettled.

"...No." she said, unconvincingly. At his incredulous expression, she gave in. "I think he hates me." she admitted mournfully.

"No one hates you, Saya." he argued, and then paused. "Well, perhaps some of the customers you've back-chatted..."

"Uncle!"

"I'm kidding." he squared his shoulders, "But if you've had a falling out with the boy, then he's the fool, and you're well rid of him."

"It's not like that," she said heavily. "It was my fault. I said something... really bad. He misunderstood me, and now..." her eyes prickled with sudden tears which she blinked back, "... I think I really hurt his feelings."

Matada stared at her with a deadpan expression. "His _feelings._ You... Hurt the infamous, bloodthirsty, Uchiha heir's _feelings."_

She frowned at him. "Don't call him that." she said sharply. "And anyway, you've met him before. He's really a nice person."

He groaned, "Saya-"

She sniffed and turned away from him. "I don't expect you to understand."

He struggled a moment for an argument, before simply exclaiming, "You're too young for boys! Fifty years too young!"

"Don't be silly. He's just a-" she winced, "... He _was_ just a friend." she looked as sad as a mourner at a funeral.

He huffed as she went back to brooding.

"That's it!" he announced, throwing his hands into the air in resignation. "Fine!" he turned on his heel and marched into the kitchen with a grim expression.

Saya turned to watch him, curious.

"What are you-"

"Here." he stomped out again, holding two neatly wrapped packages with labels attached to them. "Customer deliveries. This one is for one of Akamichi Choza's grand-daughters, for her eighth birthday." he pushed the package into her hands.

She blinked at it, nonplussed at the abrupt change of subject. "Okay. I'll take it. And the other one?"

He ripped off the label on the other package and crumpled it in one large fist, staring at her meaningfully. "This one? I don't know. I seem to have _misplaced_ the label. Why don't you deliver it to a regular, as a thank-you and a reminder that their continued patronage would be appreciated? On behalf of the restaurant."

Saya just stared at him.

"What?" he grunted. "You-"

She threw her arms around his broad chest. Ignoring his embarrassed splutters, she beamed, the life returning to her eyes once again.

"I'll go right away. And... thanks, Uncle. You have the best ideas."

* * *

 _Meanwhile..._

* * *

Tsunade Sannin, the Fifth Hokage of Konoha, shuffled the papers on her desk distractedly. "Are you _sure_?" she demanded, her movements stilling as she narrowed her eyes fiercely at the man before her. "They were meeting to discuss a rebellion?"

The dark-haired ninja didn't flinch or show any other reaction to her sharp tone. "I am sure, Hokage-sama." He responded in a characteristically measured, neutral tone. "It was a closed-door meeting with just the elders, so I don't know the specifics... But the signs are unmistakable. It's all happening again."

"The Uchiha… after all this time, they're starting to make a move?" she pondered out loud. She slammed her fist on her desk irately, the wood splintering from the force. "Damn it! Haven't they learnt anything from what happened last time?!"

Uchiha Itachi's dark eyes met hers, unwavering, steadfast, as he waited for her orders. As always, he seemed aloof… Cold. Professional. As if this was just another mission and not something he cared deeply about on a personal level.

He unnerved her sometimes, with the clinical, almost inhuman lack of emotion in those dark eyes. But then she would remind herself that she was one of the few who _did_ know him better than that. She'd worked closely with the ANBU captain for a number of years now, since the Third, Sarutobi Hiruzen, retired. She knew he was not actually without feelings – in fact, ironically, he felt very deeply. About his village, his clan, his family… but more than anything, he cared about maintaining peace. Which brought them to their current predicament.

"For now," he allowed, "It seems they're only _considering_ treason against Konoha. Again."

She snorted humourlessly. "With any luck, nothing will come of it…"

The otherwise blank-faced ninja shifted slightly in place. "You don't intend to act on this intel?"

Tsunade couldn't read his reaction - was he relieved? Or concerned by her lack of action?

She pursed her lips. "Not yet. This development needs to be handled carefully." She tapped her fingernails on her desk, thinking. "I've been feeling for some time now that the Uchiha were getting cocky. Arrogant. Flaunting their power as the Konoha police force over other ninja and civilians… But then, they've always been a hot-blooded lot. When the Third retired and gave them more autonomy in the village – his 'olive branch', as he called it – we expected there would be some issues. This feels different, though. Unusually reckless, even for your clan. As if someone has instigated this…"

"Danzo." Itachi's eyes narrowed, and his posture stiffened ever so slightly.

Tsunade nodded. "He could be provoking the clan into rebellion – he did it last time, and he's been trying to drive a wedge between Konoha and the Uchiha ever since that attempt failed... But we've never been able to prove anything. I can't make accusations without evidence this time, either. I'll need to know exactly who is involved, what they're planning, and how far this treasonous rot spreads." she spat. "God knows the Uchiha aren't entirely innocent in this if they are so easy manipulated... You'll need to lead a team to investigate, so that as soon as Danzo - or whoever is responsible - slips up, we're ready." She glanced at the mission roster on her desk, "I would recommend Kakashi, and perhaps-"

"Respectfully, I don't think a team mission is the best way to approach this, Tsunade-sama." Itachi interrupted, quiet but firm.

A single raised eyebrow demanded an explanation.

"Danzo has ROOT operatives everywhere – they are his eyes and ears. Any official mission involving multiple ninja will alert him to our intentions. And just like last time, we'll lose any chance at finding evidence."

She looked unconvinced. "So? What do you propose?"

Itachi hesitated, then said matter-of-factly, "I have kept an eye on the Uchiha and Danzo for years now, alone – if evidence of his involvement and the extent of the Uchiha's treason is what we need, I must simply work harder to find it."

Tsunade eyed the lines of exhaustion on his face critically. It had only been half a day since he'd arrived back from a particularly gruelling mission - and then this drama with his clan happened. She suddenly wondered just _when_ he had started referring to his clan as "the Uchiha" in such a detached way - as if he didn't belong. That word choice seemed very significant. She steepled her fingers. "Spying on your own clan from within. A heavy burden for one man to bear." She remarked, watching him carefully.

His dark eyes were as unreadable as ever. After a moment of tense silence, he quietly added, "I am prepared to bear a heavier burden than that, should it become necessary."

She shifted, uncomfortable. "It won't come to that, Uchiha."

There was a beat of silence.

"… Perhaps it should have, in the past."

She almost shivered at the coldness, the _lifelessness_ in his voice. Suddenly his blank eyes didn't seem expressionless, but rather… _hollow_. Devoid of life.

The medic inside her had alarm bells ringing in her ears like klaxons.

She hid how perturbed she was suddenly feeling, and deliberately gentled her tone. "Itachi… this isn't like you. Has something happened? Something to make you doubt our mission of peace? When the Third retired, we both pledged to stop the Uchiha's cycle of hate. Or did you forget why Hiruzen prevented the massacre all those years ago?"

His eyes flickered. "I have not forgotten."

"Then where is this coming from?" Tsunade demanded. "Be entirely honest with me, Itachi. That's an order."

He looked down for a few moments, his expression bleak. "I'm still committed to that mission." He responded at last.

"But?" she prompted.

He looked up. "…But I find myself questioning our chances for success. At every turn, I'm confronted by the clan's arrogance, their misplaced sense of superiority… their endless capacity for violence and hate. I question whether a _peaceful_ Konoha is even possible with the Uchiha involved, or if the village would be better off without-"

"Not _all_ Uchiha are so contemptible." She said pointedly.

For the first time, his blank mask slipped as he gave a humourless snort, and actually began pacing like a caged lion in front of her desk.

Tsunade began to feel even more alarmed.

"You refer to _me?"_ he said, his mild voice tainted with bitter disbelief. "My hands are bloodier than most. I have known nothing but violence and death my whole life. I learnt how to use a kunai before I could talk. Perhaps it is simply in my nature, or my genetics, and it is pointless to pretend I am anything but an executioner? Perhaps this was never going to be resolved peacefully, and I have been merely delaying the inevitable, hoping for a future that will never come to pass with the Uchiha around. If so, who better to dirty their hands than one such as me? I should have-"

"Itachi, _enough."_ Her voice rapped out, and he stopped pacing, returning to his previous position of standing at attention. His tired gaze rose again to meet hers. "That's quite enough, do you hear me?" she said sternly. "You're over-worked, under a lot of stress, and something is playing on your mind. You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm fi-"

"Not another word," she ordered over his half-hearted protest, "I know battle-fatigue when I see it. And this is not something that bed-rest in your clan compound will solve, that's for sure." She opened a drawer and dug out a scroll, which she tossed at him. "You may not like it, but this is for the best..."

He caught it reflexively, a question in his eyes.

"Your next mission," she explained. "A week in the Land of Snow, investigating the disappearance of a shipload of valuable cargo. Nice and easy – no infiltrations, assassinations, or anything too exciting, apart from knocking the heads of some pirates together, I would expect…"

He frowned. "But Tsunade-sama, what about-"

"The Uchiha will take time to organize themselves – we have months, if not _years_ to deal with them. Their plotting will keep for when you return, and you can use the trip to clear your head and consider how to approach the problem _rationally._ I'll have Kakashi keep an eye on Danzo and ROOT while you're away."

She almost laughed at the barely-disguised frustration in his eyes, but he was far too good a soldier to refuse a superior's direct order. He may not like the idea of "time off", but on some level, he _must_ have known she was right. He was near breaking point, due to overwork or something else that had upset him. A mission for one week out of Konoha would barely scratch the surface of the rest and relaxation he _really_ needed, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

"When do I leave?" he asked woodenly, and the very slight resentment lingering in his eyes was like an Itachi-version of a foot-stamping tantrum.

She smirked, utterly unrepentant. "Immediately."

After a moment of further stubbornness, he bowed, accepting the orders, and wiped his expression back to blankness again. "Hokage-sama." he murmured.

She nodded. "Dismissed."

As soon as he left, she sighed heavily and started pouring herself a healthy-sized cup of sake.


	7. Chapter 7: Delivery

**Chapter 7: Delivery**

* * *

Saya walked with purposeful strides through the village, a paper package clenched firmly in her hand. She'd been around to the Akimichi's already and dropped off the first dango order, and all that was left to do was her "special" delivery for Itachi. After thinking about it, she'd decided to include a short letter, as she knew the chance of catching the man at home and not on a mission was pretty slim. She was hoping to be able to explain everything face to face, but if not, then at least the letter might _start_ to mend the rift that had sprung up between them as a result of her thoughtless words.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face on that night again – that flash of terrible hurt in his dark eyes. She needed to apologise for her carelessness and lack of tact and explain that no, _of course_ she didn't think he was a monster. Far from it.

The letter was neatly handwritten, without signature or embellishment, and enclosed in an open envelope. She knew better than to hide an _actual_ secret message from ninjas.

* * *

 _On behalf of Konoha's Finest Dango Eatery, and in gratitude for your past support and patronage, please accept this gift with our good wishes for your health and happiness._

 **(despite Itachi's dark past (and present) she only wished him well)**

 _We've noticed you haven't stopped by recently, and would like to take this opportunity to invite you to visit our establishment again soon. We have several new specials that our friendly staff would be pleased to explain to you on your arrival._

 **(she desperately wanted an opportunity to talk to him about what happened - to explain herself)**

 _If this message and gift was received in error, or if you would prefer not to be contacted in this manner in future, please accept our humblest apologies and enjoy the enclosed dango as a parting gift._

 **(this would be the last time she tried to contact him - if he truly no longer wanted to see her, she would understand and back off)**

 _Have a lovely day and remember, our doors are always open to those who love Konoha and dango._

 **(she knew he was a loyal ninja of Konoha, and she still considered him a friend, no matter what terrible things he had done in service to the village)**

* * *

She walked quickly, passing all the familiar districts of Konoha on the way to the Uchiha compound, with her heart in her throat. She was admittedly nervous – she'd never been in that part of the village, and so far every Uchiha she'd met apart from Itachi had been, well… _unpleasant_. The police force were arrogant assholes, most of the time, and then there was Sasuke the brat, and Misao – ethereally beautiful and completely unhinged. Was good looks and terrible personalities genetic?

Itachi's own family had treated him terribly; sending him off to a war as a _toddler_ , and then trying to force him into a loveless marriage with a deranged relative.

Her footsteps increased in speed as anger bubbled up inside her. As far as she was concerned, the Uchiha Compound was _enemy territory_ , and that thought made her chin rise stubbornly and her fists clench on the paper bag, crumpling it slightly. Her nerves evaporated in the face of a surge of protectiveness that swept through her as she imagined him surrounded by his cold and arrogant clan, shouldering all of his burdens alone. And she'd only added to his pain - but she would be brave, and put it right – and that thought gave her strength. No one was going to get in her way!

* * *

 _5 minutes later, the Uchiha Compound…_

"What do you mean, you won't let me in?!" she demanded, outraged.

An Uchiha in the dark clothes that signified the police force was guarding the gate to the compound from behind a wooden booth while chewing some gum, a newspaper in hand. He smirked and continued chewing his gum with his mouth open. It was mildly nauseating.

"I _demand_ you let me in!" she stamped her foot.

He was unmoved. "Can't allow deliveries into the compound without a permit." He replied in a bored voice, and tapped the edge of the booth with the rolled-up newspaper. Just below was a sign which read 'NO UNLICENSED SOLICITATION'.

Saya scowled at him. "I'm not _selling_ anything," she exclaimed, "I'm just making a delivery! I walk in, knock on the door, hand over the package, and leave."

"No can do," he shrugged, "No permit, no entry. You could have anything in that bag – it's a security risk."

"You've already checked the bag!" she gritted out.

"So I did. Looks pretty tasty, too, but you know – it could be poisoned or something. I'd need to put it through a couple of tests before I could let it pass. And you still don't have a permit or an escort, so… even then you'd be stuck." He winked at her, "Tell you what – leave it with me, and I'll do the taste… I mean, tests… and deliver it myself." He smirked. "Promise."

"I will _not!_ " she refused instantly, knowing that the second she walked away, he'd be helping himself to the specially crafted dango in the bag, and her carefully penned letter for Itachi would find its way into the trash. "I'd rather hold on to it and come back when someone _more professional_ is on duty." She declared, her heart sinking even as she tried to think of other options.

"Suit yourself." he shrugged, and opened his newspaper again dismissively.

As a last-ditch effort, she somewhat desperately came up with a plan.

She drew herself up haughtily, looking down her nose at the man in a manner that she hoped channeled Misao. "What's your name, Uchiha?" she demanded in a forbidding tone.

The effect was ruined by the fact that he was about a head taller than her, even while seated in his booth, and seemed more amused at her antics than anything else. He quirked an eyebrow. "And what do you want to do with _that_ information?"

"I want to name the guardsman responsible for delaying this delivery - it's expected by Uchiha Itachi-sama." She announced, trying to hide the sudden spike of nerves she felt.

Instantly the humour evaporated from the man's face and he straightened up slightly, looking suspicious. He narrowed his dark eyes at her. "… You're lying."

"Believe what you want," she sniffed, folding her arms, " _Uchiha-sama_ will no doubt visit the shop to find out why his order was delayed – and I'll have to just apologise… and explain..."

The man blinked. "There's no way Itachi-sama ordered _dango_ -" he said disbelievingly. He thought for a few more moments and looked even more skeptical.

Saya's heart sank. _Busted…!_ She would have to make another plan, and beat a hasty retreat before he investigated further. The Uchiha Police Force were not known for their leniency. She shrugged nonchalantly. "Fine. Have a good day then." She turned on her heel to leave.

But the policeman was suspicious now. "Wait!" in a trice, he was next to her and had seized her wrist.

She winced at the harsh grip, her heart rate speeding up.

"I know what this is," he accused, "You're another one of his fangirls, just hoping to get a glimpse of Itachi-sama." She felt the bones in her hands grate painfully as his grip tightened viciously. "You people _disgust_ me."

"I'm not, I swear...!" she gasped.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this." he abruptly dragged her across the street and to the door of a building on one side of the compound entrance. From the sign above the entrance, she realised it was a small outpost of the _police station_.

"How dare you- _Wait_ …!" But he ignored her.

Saya felt a bit numb. Could she be arrested for lying about a _dango_ delivery…? That was surely a bit extreme?!

Inside the building, he walked down the short hall and rapped his knuckles on a plain wooden door, finally releasing her as he did so.

She stared at the nameplate on the door.

 ** _Uchiha Fugaku_**

 _What?_

 _What the hell?!_

Why did the he have an office _here_ , in this nondescript building, right outside the entrance to the compound where she'd made her attempt to break in?! (There were several entrances to the compound, and this wasn't even the main one – she just had terrible luck, apparently.)

She shrank back against the wall, massaging her smarting wrist and frantically trying to think her way out of the situation. Was she really just about to have to justify herself to _Itachi's father_ , the _clan head_ of the Uchihas and the head of their police force?! A man she had already sworn to despise for all eternity?

"Uchiha-sama" the man called out respectfully. "May I enter?"

There was a yawning silence of a few seconds, and then the muffled sound of an object falling to the ground came from inside the office, followed by a muttered curse.

After a few seconds, the door was abruptly yanked open and a bleary-eyed man stumbled through.

Saya blinked. Though she'd never met Itachi's infamously stern father, she knew that this was certainly _not_ him.

"Shisui-san?" the policeman groaned in apparent exasperation. "What are _you_ doing here?"

The man seemed relieved, by the way he sagged against the open door and scrubbed at his face. "Thank goodness. Uh... I'm not – I _wasn't_ sleeping in Fugaku-sama's office or something, you know-" he rambled, "I was uh, doing some reports... and stuff."

Saya stared at him as he tried to fight off a yawn. He had dark circles under his eyes, which were framed by long lashes and seemed uncharacteristically warm and expressive, for an Uchiha. He was wearing the same dark flak jacket she'd seen on Itachi, not a police uniform, which only increased her confusion. What was he doing here?

"…And um… filing some papers." He finished lamely, with a crooked smile that was somehow rather endearing.

Saya glanced past him into the austere office behind. It was very neat and orderly and hardly seemed important enough for the head of the police force. And yet, there was his brass nameplate on the desk, slightly crooked as if it had been disturbed by someone forehead resting on the polished wooden surface.

The other Uchiha gave a small bow of his head and said somewhat drily, "It's no business of mine where you choose to _do your_ _paperwork_ , Shisui-san. I'll leave you to it." He turned and put a heavy hand on Saya's shoulder, "C'mon, you-"

Shisui seemed to noticed Saya standing nervously behind the policeman. His expressive eyes quickly ran over her, lingering for a moment on the package loosely clasped at her side, before flickering up to meet her eyes again. She felt pinned by his laserlike focus for a moment, and then the tension dissipated as he pushed past the policeman and broke into an easy smile, offering his hand in greeting. "Hi there. Uchiha Shisui, at your service."

She felt the corners of her lips rise automatically in response, and after a moment's pause in surprise, she reached out to shake his hand. "Um. Hi – I'm Saya."

He let go of her hand and glanced at the guard. "What's up?"

The other man rolled his eyes. "It's probably nothing, but this little _busybody_ is claiming to have a personal delivery for _Itachi-sama_. Of _dango_. It's ridiculous-" he scoffed, "Some sort of attention-seeking plot, no doubt… Another attempt to stalk the clan heir…"

"I'm not!" Saya defended angrily, but the man ignored her.

"Anyway," he continued with a sneer, "We've been cracking down on _civilians_ trying their luck recently, so I was just gonna lock her up in a holding cell for a while until she learnt her lesson-"

"Hey!" Saya protested, alarmed, but was ignored again.

" – What do you think, Shisui-san? You know Itachi-sama the best, being his cousin and all. What should we do about this one?"

Saya turned her wide eyes to Shisui, who hummed thoughtfully and leaned against the doorframe with a relaxed slouch, appraising her silently. Did he really know Itachi? Would he see through her bluff, too?

The policeman looked smug, utterly sure that the Shisui would agree with his handling of the situation.

After a few moments, Shisui turned to him with a friendly smile. "So. Let me get this straight. You want to lock up this woman on the grounds of stalking and other creepy fangirl behaviour, and in so doing, send a message to other civilians that this kind of thing is taken seriously by the police force?"

Saya frantically thought about what she could say in her defence…

The policeman nodded and grinned. "Couldn't have put it better myself."

Shisui nodded thoughtfully, "That's good. I completely agree… Except for one thing."

The policeman's smile slipped off his face. "… What?"

Shisui leaned forward and tilted his head with a sardonic smile, "I happen to know, as a bare and utterly _incontrovertible_ fact, that my dear cousin Uchiha Itachi absolutely _adores_ dango. Like, it's kinda embarrassing." He glanced at Saya and winked, "I'm pretty sure he would live on the stuff if he could."

The man facepalmed. "You're kidding."

"Nope." Shisui clapped him on the shoulder. "You're an idiot. Stop pestering civilians and go back to your post - before someone _actually_ needs you to do your job."

Shooting a glare at Saya, the man muttered under his breath and stalked off, slamming the door on his way out.

Shisui watched him go and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, these arrogant fools will be the death of me…"

"Thanks." Saya said, still surprised at the unexpected turn of events. "I was worried for a second there…"

"And I'm incredibly curious about _you_." He returned instantly, his dark eyes once again fixed on her with single-minded intensity. "Itachi may like dango, but I also know he'd die a thousand deaths rather than order a personal delivery of them to his front door, in the actual _compound_."

Saya felt heat rising in her face – her bluff wasn't going to work this time.

Shisui read her expression and nodded. "I'll escort you," he offered, "And you can tell me the truth. His favourite food isn't exactly common knowledge around the village, so I'm curious how this all came about."

Saya nodded, chastened. "Uh, okay. I guess that's fair." For some reason, she felt like she could trust this man. He was very… un-Uchiha-like.

They walked out of the building together and Shisui led her down the main street of the compound at a leisurely pace. "So, spill the beans?"

Saya sighed. "Short version? Itachi and I… we talk, sometimes."

"What?" deadpanned Shisui, "I don't believe you. Have you met the guy?"

"No, we do!" she asserted, and as her expression remained adamant, his shifted into contemplation.

"When does this talking happen?" he asked, baffled.

She shrugged. "At the dango restaurant I work at. He comes in after missions, sometimes. But recently, we had a…" she hesitated, "Well… a falling out, of sorts. I said something careless and so I want to apologise, with a reconciliation gift." She indicated the package. She decided it was best to keep the specifics out of it, if possible.

Shisui's eyes were alight with curiosity as he absorbed this information. He'd been trained in reading body language and verbal inflections and could tell she at least believed the truth of what she was saying (well, that, or she was an S-rank ninja capable of masking herself. But he reckoned an S-rank ninja of that level would have come up with a better ambush plan than ' _walk into the compound and give Itachi dango'_ ). All things considered, she was just what she seemed – a quite pretty, young dango waitress that Itachi _had a non-ninja-related relationship with_. He should bake his ridiculous cousin a goddamn cake.

A thousand questions sprung into his mind.

"A falling out? Over what? You've been talking – to Itachi, about _stuff_? Wow…" he whistled, sounding weirdly excited. "When did you have this argument?"

She raised an eyebrow – he was starting to bounce along beside her with pent-up energy. "A couple of weeks ago." She said vaguely. "It was… less of an argument and more of a… misunderstanding."

"Whaaaaaaaat... the hell." Shisui ran his hands through his hair, causing the already chaotic tufts to stick up even more. He correctly interpreted her confused expression and explained, "It may _sound_ like I'm being overdramatic but… You don't understand how ground-breaking this is to me."

"Really?" she blinked at him. "How so?"

"You've just blown several misconceptions I've had about my dear cousin clear out of the water," he gushed. "One, he's been having normal human interactions… like, _conversations_ , and… _altercations_ , and… Ugh, I'm so goddamn proud of him…"

She couldn't help it, and chuckled, thinking of the way Itachi had started out, so taciturn and stiff. She had noticed that, over time, he'd opened up - but did that mean he'd somehow changed as a result of _her_? She felt a blush spread to her cheeks as this information made her feel all fluttery inside.

"Are you two _dating_?" Shisui demanded, sounding utterly delighted at the thought.

She slammed a lid down firmly on the fluttery feeling. "No!" she instantly insisted. "We're… friends? Well…" she frowned. "I consider him a friend, at least."

Shisui nodded rapidly. "I see. He still has a way to go, eh… that's oddly reassuring, actually. I was afraid I didn't know my cousin at all, haha… Still, this is a lot to take in…"

"Are you two very close, then?" Saya asked inquisitively.

He nodded. "I taught him all he knows," he smirked, "As a ninja, anyway – and he's already surpassed me. I've also been trying to socialize him for years, but it never seemed to take as well as ninja skills."

Saya was silent a moment. It felt like a heavy weight had lessened somehow on her chest. "I'm… relieved." She realised, speaking out loud. "I thought that he was alone, but… I'm glad he has someone like you looking out for him." She smiled at him and then looked away, running her eyes over the neat shopfronts and houses in the quiet district they were passing through. Suddenly, it didn't quite feel as much like enemy territory anymore. "Even if he doesn't accept my apology… At least he won't be alone."

"You doubt whether he'll accept your apology?" he said, surprised.

She shrugged, feeling guilty. "I… think I really hurt his feelings. It wasn't on purpose, but… I hope he'll see me again, but I'll understand if he doesn't want to." She tried to smile but it came out as a bit of a grimace, "I know what that policeman thought of me, and I'm really not like that. I…" she took a breath. "If he doesn't come to restaurant again, I won't bother him."

Watching her, Shisui fell abruptly silent, lost in his own thoughts as they walked.

Itachi _never_ spoke casually to civilians outside of his very small circle of friends (ninjas) and family (also ninjas) – this woman was obviously someone very special to Itachi, by virtue of that fact alone.

He also knew that Itachi was an incredibly kind person, especially for a ninja, and if he thought she was sincere there was no chance he wouldn't accept her apology. If he heard the lengths she was going to for him, he might just do something incredibly entertaining, like blush like a _girl_. Shisui grinned. Where could he find a camera on short notice…?

Struck by a thought, Saya looked back at him. "Shisui-san," she started curiously.

"Hm?" he came out of his reverie.

"Why were you sleeping in that office? You're not part of the police force, right?"

"Ah yes, I'm not." He responded easily. "I'm a Konoha ninja, part of a special division just like Itachi. As to what I was doing… well, I suppose it's only fair, after all the revelations you've given me, Saya-san – to tell you the truth, I was hiding. Well, sleeping too… but mostly hiding."

"From who?" she asked curiously.

"Fugaku-sama, of course," he admitted sheepishly.

"In his own office?" she asked, smiling. "That's interesting logic."

"It makes perfect sense!" he argued, "He wants to speak to me, which means the last place he's going to think to find me is in his own office. It would have worked out perfectly if I hadn't been interrupted by dango-related business…"

Saya chuckled and was about to ask another question, when Shisui abruptly stopped. He pointed at an imposing set of double wooden screen doors with the Uchiha crest emblazoned on it. "We're here."

"Oh." Saya's nervousness spiked. "Should-"

Shisui regretfully realised Itachi's distinctive chakra signature wasn't there – he was probably on a mission. But there were occupants in the house… He was curious to see how this played out.

He solemnly rested a hand on her shoulder. "Well, I must be off. Good luck – and I'll see you around."

Her eyes widened. "Wait-"

He grinned and formed a single-handed sign, before abruptly disappearing in a swirl of leaves, leaving her standing alone on the road, strands of hair chaotically whipping in her face.

She took a moment to let her rapidly beating heart slow down from his sudden disappearance, and then turned to the imposing set of doors.

"Well, I've come this far." She whispered. She steeled herself, and then rapped on the wooden frame.

She stared at the door for only a few tense moments before it slid open.

"Sasuke-san." She said in surprise, and slight relief.

The surly teen's eyebrows raised in disdainful expectancy, but otherwise he didn't say a word.

She rallied. "Sorry for pitching up so unexpectedly," she started, "Is your brother at home?"

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, and he folded his arms. "No. He's away on a mission."

Saya felt a pang of disappointment, but she had known it was unlikely he'd be at home. "Well, would you mind giving this to him when you see him again?" she held out the package.

He took it reluctantly, looking down at the unassuming paper bag before looking up at her quizzically again.

"It's just a gift from the restaurant, to thank your brother for his, um, patronage." She said, hoping that didn't sound as weak as she suspected. "Will you give it to him?"

"...Hn."

She stared at him for a moment, and then blinked, feeling mildly exasperated. "Does that mean yes?"

"Hn."

"…Alright then. Thanks – I'll take my leave-"

"Sasuke? Who is at the door?" a deep, male voice.

Saya winced, as Sasuke's expression went even more wooden, if that was possible. He hesitated and then said, "It's nothing, Father. Just a delivery for Itachi."

There was a tense silence, and then the man himself appeared in the doorway, his weathered face creased in a fierce scowl. "A _delivery_? What nonsense is this-" he looked her up and down. "Who is this?" he demanded.

Saya felt her hackles beginning to rise at the mere sight of the man – something about him just put her on edge. Maybe it was the knowledge that he was terrible father. "As your son noted," she answered him somewhat drily, "I'm nobody of importance."

Itachi's father seemed to stiffen as he stared at her, picking up on her less-than-respectful tone. "It is not customary to make deliveries to the main house. Where is your pass?"

"Uchiha Shisui escorted me." She answered, immediately deciding to throw her new friend under the bus. He must have known this would happen, the bastard.

The Uchiha clan head scowled and cast an irritated glare down the empty street. "Of course he did." He folded his arms. "Well, he isn't here now. Leave the compound at once, and next time, apply for a pass." He dismissively turned away, and then took the paper bag from Sasuke, who was standing there, silently. He glanced inside and shook his head. "Throw this away," he commanded, "Itachi doesn't have time for such trifles." He turned his back on them both and disappeared inside without another word.

"Sasuke-" Saya started, dismayed.

"You should leave." He said quietly, and with a completely unreadable expression, slid the door shut, leaving her out alone and frustrated in the street.


End file.
